Dorm 69
by NotSoPosh.Totty
Summary: On Alfred's first day of college, he stumbles across a startling scene that leads him to befriend a neighbouring student named Arthur, who films gay pornography as a way of making money. However, Alfred's discomfort is soon changed when he realises that there's more to the lonely punk's seemingly sordid intentions than he originally thought...
1. Chapter 1

**Warning: if you are sensitive at all towards topics such as homosexuality, bad language, pornography and illness then this probably isn't the story for you.**

* * *

**Chapter 1**

My first day of college was... eventful.

I mean, it was just like any other school day at first. Get up, shower, get dressed, eat... grab your stuff and go. I knew the drill! I'd only graduated from high school this summer so it's not like I'd forgotten what it's like to routinely wake up and get on with whatever business I had to do that day.

Dorm 72; shared it with a Canadian guy named Matthew. Nice guy. Wore glasses like me! Into all that crazy computer tech stuff so I thought he'd come in useful if I ever needed help with a cool scene in one of my movies.

Oh, I study Film by the way – won't deny that I dream of becoming a famous movie director one day. You know, like: Michael Bay, Alfred Hitchcock, Steven Spielberg, Quentin Tarantino – all the greats.

Don't we all? Dream of becoming great, I mean. My mother always told me to get my head out of the clouds because nothing ever comes to you without failure. She's scared I'm not going to make it. Some support! I know she means well, and I'd never admit this to her, but her scepticism makes me feel pretty pathetic sometimes.

Don't get me wrong, my parents are supportive, but I had a feeling that taking this subject wasn't exactly what they'd planned for me to do in life.

My dad's a lawyer, so you could say he'd rather I'd chosen a stable career option that involved me working more and dreaming less. My mom's a private masseuse for the rich and famous. She doesn't even like it that much; she only does it because she gets to meet lots of celebrities and she's got this 'natural ability' to pinpoint knots and muscles and whatever masseuses do to torture your body into relaxation. She also does it so she's not confined to being a 'housewife': a fear she's had ever since she was a little girl, watching her own mom constantly cleaning up after her dad.

How did she end up becoming a private masseuse for the rich and famous? Got lucky I guess.

The day I'd walked in from school to see Katy Perry thanking my mom as she left in her bright pink mini cooper was a day I'd never forget.

I think that's enough to tell that my parents are pretty stinkin' rich, so as a kid I had it pretty easy.

Not _that_ easy of course. May be hard to believe but I work hard to achieve the things that I want. I guess rebelling against your parents is great motivation. Why else do you think I went against my dad's wishes and chose the film industry instead of boring law? _Not_ that there's anything wrong with law, of course!

When I stepped into my new dorm room for the first time it was kinda like... entering some crazy shit you'd find at NASA! Mounted on the walls were five massive screens (not including the TV by the couch), keyboards that took up to two extra computer desks, huge speakers, including an Xbox and all kinds of awesome high tech equipment I'll never know the names of.

I almost didn't realise Matt was there as I dumped my bags on a random bed and looked around the room in awe.

He just popped out of nowhere. "H-hi, I'm m-m-m-Matt."

At first appearances I thought he was just nervous meeting his new roommate for the first time.

"Hey!" I smiled, still staring around the room with my mouth wide open, "is this all yours?"

He beamed at me in a shy kind of way and motioned his hand timidly towards the huge monitors, "I hope you d-don't m-m-m-mind."

Stupidly, I asked, "Dude, are you ok?" which made the guy's face frown somewhat embarrassed. He nervously looked away to the floor, noticeably too ashamed to look at my face.

"S-sorry," he said, twiddling his fingers, "I h-have a s-s-s-stu... a s-s-stutter so it's hard for me to s-speak some-t-t-times."

I couldn't help but watch his mouth twitch awkwardly as he spoke. I instantly felt sorry for him because I knew my underdeveloped patience was going to be put to the test. I stepped forward and put a firm, friendly hand on his shoulder, "Dude, it's cool. I once knew a guy with a stutter."

That was a lie. But how hard could it be? Sure I'd never been friends with, or even _met_ someone with a stutter before, but he seemed nice enough. Especially if he let me play on his Xbox, then I was sure we'd become the best of pals in no time!

His face lifted at the mention of my little white lie, "Cool!" he stated without a problem, though I thought too soon, "Wanna p-play som-m-me g-games later? There're all on th-th-th-the... sh-shelf over there."

My face gawked as I walked over to the huge floor to ceiling shelf stacked from (I kid you not) top to bottom with nothing but Xbox and computer games. I scanned through them and ran my fingers against the rowed spines of Call of Duty, Black Ops and Halo. "Dude! Like, how many games did you bring?"

His mouth stretched into a huge proud smile, then came over to place a hand on no game in particular and stared at them all in pride, "T-two-hundred-and-thhh-irty. I left the re-rest at home." I looked at him and cocked an eyebrow in disbelief. My parents were pretty well-to-do but even_ I_ didn't have this many games! I'd say I had around 20-30 games at most - y'know, just the important ones, like: Assassins Creed, Black Ops, CoD and lots of others. How did he even manage to carry these all up here anyway!?

My first thought was this guy must be loaded. How else could he afford all these games and all that high-tech stuff? No doubt he was a computer whiz so I assumed he was taking something in computer science or something.

"I'm actu-tu-tuall-l-l... I'm t-t-taking Film right now,"

I jumped up and grinned at him in surprise, "No way! We're on the same course, brah!" Lifting my hand in the air, he hesitantly high fived me as my excitement filled the room along with my too-loud voice. He didn't seem to mind though.

Later that night, I'm happy to say, after we ordered pizza he connected all five screens to his TV-computer thingy, and I think I had the most amazing Halo game experience in all my life.

* * *

First day, Monday morning. Me and Matt left our dorm with backpacks filled already with heavy books, and made our way out across campus towards a road filled with busy student cars making their way to their first class of the year; probably just as excited and nervous as we were.

I couldn't forget how big this college was; even Matt seemed to stop and stare every now and again in the middle of a mass of students as we made our way across the road and up the many steps towards the grand entrance to the building. I almost couldn't believe I was there to be honest. I'd earned my place here. This was nothing to do with my parent's money! ...okay, maybe a little helped towards my accommodation, but the grades and the interviews: I achieved all by myself.

I had no doubt Matt got in on the same accounts, being the advanced computer whizz he is, though I did wonder guiltily about how his interviews went, considering he had a speech impediment. Not that it mattered now because he was standing right here beside me!

* * *

Class was great. At lunch I sat next to Matt and made some new friends. Though Matt was reluctant to speak at first, I soon introduced him to the others despite him strongly insisting not to. I told him he couldn't hide his voice forever and finally, with a bashful face and slightly red cheeks he let out a small 'h-hello' to everyone. I honestly could not have been more proud of him even if he'd jumped on the table and shouted it.

It was funny how people kept asking if we were brothers because of our same honey blonde hair and glasses, but I politely told them no. Nevertheless, I encouraged Matt to keep talking, which he needed sometimes when his mouth got the better of him and he started stuttering uncontrollably. He'd look away so embarrassed but nobody seemed to mind, in fact they pushed him along gently, happily asking about his interests and soon he gradually overcame his fears as he got to know a few more people from our class.

There was this one guy in particular I met called Kiku. He was from Japan and ate sushi and I asked if he liked anime – which he did! We talked about famous Japanese movies we liked and I said my favourite had to be that cartoon: Princess Mononoke – which just so happened to be directed by his favourite director. I couldn't pronounce the name properly at first, which allowed Kiku a few modest giggles before I finally got the hang of saying 'Mayao Miyazaki'. Of course, I forgot straight away which made him laugh even more.

"You seem berry confident in your abirities, Alfred," he'd said after we talked about what we wanted to do in the future.

"Well, I'm going to be a famous movie director one day!" I announced confidently. It felt real good being able to just let loose my ideas and ambitions. Mainly because when I'd told my parents those exact same words, they looked at each other harshly with concern as if I'd told them I was joining the military. But Kiku just seemed to smile with content, happy that I had some clue of what I wanted to do in life without springing any miserable 'what ifs' in my face.

* * *

The day finally ended that evening with me in a separate class from Matt. He branched off into a more specific class for computer animation – which explained most of the high tech gear in our room.

I assumed he'd finished before me, so I ventured back to our dorm alone after saying goodbye to my new friends and realising most of them were in different dorms elsewhere, which sucked.

After entering the building and climbing a flight of stairs, I walked down the empty hallway towards my room. My belly crawled with the giddy excitement of playing Assassins Creed connected to all five screens at once, when I casually passed a slightly ajar door to my left.

I heard some strange grunts as I approached the door and a series of slaps accompanied with cheers coming from what seemed like a bunch of guys having a fun boy's night in. Probably watching a game or something – I hadn't been keeping up with the football lately since stressing over interviews and material to help me secure a place in this college. I completely forgot who'd been playing recently, so I stopped to check the coast was clear before letting curiosity get the better of me as I peeked through the gap in the door.

I stilled in shock. From then on I knew what I saw could never be unseen, even if I'd scrubbed my eyes out with a wire brush.

Amongst the throng of college guys cheering and swigging bear out of bottles and plastic cups, one naked man with long blond hair and a thin layer of stubble stood bent over a table with his hands held behind his back by another blonde dude with short choppy hair and an arm covered in tattoos, pumping in and out of him so hard I realised with a sense of discomfort where the slapping noise had come from. My jaw widened as I noticed two young men with camcorders – one taping the bent-over man's face, and the other filming the action between the thrusting man's legs like some sort of low budget porno. Then I realised the camera man in front had began to unzip his trousers, slipping his dick in one hand, and watched how in less than a second it disappeared between the bent-over man's lips as he was continually fucked hard from behind.

Okay, I watch porn on the internet more than I care to admit (who doesn't?). Even dabbled in curiosity of what gay porn looked like once or twice, but I had never – _ever_ – seen it live right in front of my very eyes before with a crowd watching and cameras recording it.

Before you ask, no, I'm not a virgin. I won't say I've had _tonnes _of sex – I'd say I've had plenty. A few girlfriends here and there; including my prom date that night at her house. But seeing somebody else fuck was different. Especially when there were no boobs, but sausage flying everywhere!

Suddenly, I was snapped out of my thoughts as the guy bent over started arching his body off the table.

"He's gonna come!" The camera man in front shouted.

I heard a distinctly British accent mumble from between the tattooed man's lips, "C'mon, baby," he drawled as he wrapped his arms around the bent-over guy's abdomen and pulled him up so he was standing straight, still getting fucked, but this time with one free hand jerking himself off as the other arm curled back around the British man's head and brought him into a kiss.

I couldn't make out what had been said in his ear before he scrunched his face in contorted pleasure and cussed as his hand pumped runny white liquid all over the table.

...Amidst the overwhelming sense of being watched and a rush tingling at the base of my spine, I backed up hastily and darted across the hallway until I reached Dorm 72. Shakily realising the door was already open; I ran in and slammed it shut behind me. The thought of stopping in my tracks hadn't even occurred to me before I ran straight into Matthew.

He looked at me with concern as I stared back in alarm, eyes wide and cheeks ablaze.

"What's wr-wrong, Al?" He asked anxiously as I glanced around the room, trying to block out the scene I'd just witnessed from my head, "Are you o-"

"I'm fine!" I said a bit too loudly, causing him to step back a little as I shoved my way into the bathroom and locked myself in. I stared at myself in the mirror, thankful that Matt was too shy to come knocking after me.

Steadying myself on the sink, I stared at myself with wide eyes and exhaled a shaky breath. Then, unzipping my pants, I peered down at the semi-hardness of my dick resting inside the confines of my comic-book underwear, and felt a hot, ambiguous sensation swirling inside my tummy. A sensation that made me sneer at myself in the mirror with disgust. Made me feel ashamed for what I'd just witnessed happening between two grown men.

A sensation that made me wish I could go back there and watch it all over again.

* * *

**If you got to the end, thank you so much!**

**All characters belong to the amazing Hidekaz Himaruya but the place and college are open for any interpretation. There is no specific name - you can imagine it however the hell you want! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

After having some ' alone time' in the bathroom, when I finally walked out I wasn't surprised to see Matt tinkering with his Xbox before turning around to look at me with genuine concern on his face. I instantly felt guilty for barging past him earlier and slumped on my bed against the wall facing the five huge screens.

"I'm sorry for... what... happened earlier," I said, shaking my head.

He smiled back, worry unwavering from his eyes, "It's f-fine, as long as you're okay. Y-...y-you were in there f-f-for a l-l-l-l-long... a-a-a l-long time," he alluded, noticing me looking anywhere but directly at him.

I shrugged one shoulder and stared glumly at the floor, fiddling with the ends of my t-shirt, "It's cool, man, don't worry 'bout it." But I still felt his eyes on me so I looked at him and raised the most genuine crooked smile I could muster, "I am sorry for barging past you, though. I'm not usually like that."

He kindly shrugged back and replied, "Hey, we've g-g-got two years to get to know each other. It's no b-biggie."

I grinned back in appreciation before he turned around to tinker with his Xbox some more. My face instantaneously fell again and my mind raced uncontrollably to the scene behind door 69.

When locked in the bathroom, I'd sat on the edge of the bathtub and freed my semi from the confines of my jeans.

Need I explain more?

I did what all boys like to do when they're locked inside a room all by themselves. I closed my eyes and got down to it, making sure I didn't tip backwards and fall into the tub. I concentrated on what I could remember fresh in my brain. Licking my lips, I visualised that British tattooed guy, slamming against that other's man's body.

Guilt gnawed itself inside my head so I changed the long-haired man bent over the table into a woman.

_Hmmm, big titties squashed against the table..._ but the feeling began to wane.

Keeping my eyes shut, I sucked on my bottom lip and resulted to him fucking a man again.

_Okay..._ I thought a little uncomfortably.

His taught, round ass was back in my closed vision again.

_He's got such a nice ass... Wait. Fuck. NO!_

I abruptly opened my eyes and felt my head heating up as frustration knocked me out of my fantasy. After clicking my tongue, I squeezed my eyes shut again and exhaled an irritated sigh. I re-adjusted myself on the edge of the tub, relaxing with another calm breath before trying again.

This time I sucked my whole bottom lip and pumped faster – despite my wrist already slightly aching from the last failed attempt.

_Think of boobies, think of boobies..._ I silently chanted as I visualised the tattooed guy fucking a women once more. But, again, it didn't fill me with the same rush, so I visualised her back as that long haired man once again.

_I might as well go with it_, I thought.

A single bead of sweat trailed down my temple. "_Fuck_..." I whispered grinding my teeth as my vision contorted uncontrollably from man to woman. But I was determined not to let frustration get the better of me, so I went along with it, pumping away and squeezing my eyes so tight my forehead started to ache from the strain. Before I knew it, my focus was on the Brit again.

_Those tattoos... and that... fucking... ass..._

The feeling began to deepen inside my groin,

_Huh..._

And he's wrapping his arms around that guy,

_c'mon..._

They're both stood up, still bounding against each other, bodies hot and raw,

_Aw, c'mon... _

One hand jerking himself off (like I said, I went with it), the other reaching back. He turned his head around; the tattooed Brit leaned into his lips...

and then...

and then he kissed me.

The feeling built so intense inside my groin I forgot all about the strain in my forehead as I squeezed my eyes even tighter. My lips formed an 'O' as I pictured myself in the other man's place, arms wrapped around me as I got screwed from behind.

I convulsed, gripping onto the bathtub so I didn't topple backwards and came all over my hand.

I breathed a few shaky breaths before finally relaxing my face and opened my eyes, feeling the pulse in my temples and the relief in my wrist.

_Shit_... I breathed as I steadied my breath and slid my wonky glasses up my nose, stunned from the weird aftershock of what had just gone through my mind before I finally reached my limit.

My head and especially my cheeks were burning, so after washing the spunk off my hands (thank God I didn't get it anywhere else!) I slipped off my glasses and splashed cold water onto my face to relieve some of the heat, then dried off and looked at myself once more in the mirror.

I didn't know what I was feeling, but it continued to twist and curl around my core, not letting me go like some annoying ailment that wouldn't go away.

I shook my head from the strange feeling, slipped my glasses back on, and re-entered mine and Matt's bedroom; a frustrated guilt at the back of my brain.

* * *

I laid there wide awake in bed, staring at the ceiling as my eyes tried to close, but couldn't because my brain wouldn't switch off from that scene replying torturously over and over again in my head.

I realised it wasn't the long-haired man bent over the table that made my insides prickle with excitement. It was the man with, admittedly, the nicest butt I'd ever seen on_ anyone_.

The blonde tattooed guy with the British accent.

_Pfft,_ I thought, stupidly shaking my head on the pillow. _Come to think of it, he barely said two words. He's probably not even British..._

I felt a bit ridiculous at the thought because I hadn't actually seen much of his face properly either.

I sighed and turned over to face the wall, trying to understand why he'd racked my brain so much. Couldn't have _just_ been his ass – I'm not _that_ shallow. Perhaps it was his tattoos? Though I couldn't remember what most of his tattoos resembled either. All I knew was that he had one whole arm covered in ink, along with other tattoos trailing across his waist and legs.

So. I didn't know what his face properly looked like; I assumed he was British but now wasn't so sure because he'd only actually spoken two words; and then realised I couldn't even remember any of the tattoos he'd had on his body – apart from what I'd thought to be an old style pirate ship across one side of his ribs...

The only vivid thing about this man was his butt – which I really needed to stop thinking about, _ugh!_

Thoughts swirled around like a whirlwind inside my head for hours, but, thankfully, at some point that night my brain finally decided it'd had enough, and allowed me to fall asleep.

* * *

I woke up groggy that morning, eyes straining to stay awake as I made my way to class with Matt by my side.

We analysed different angle shots whilst watching clips from different movies, listening along to the Professor's discussion on the do's and don'ts of proper framing and the Rule of Thirds blah, blah, blah, making the shots more appealing to the watcher's eye, blah, blah, blah – this was like practically everything I'd already learned in high school. I listened anyway, just in case there was anything I'd missed and noted them down, putting my hand up every now and then to question the Professor's techniques. I heard a few chuckles beside me as the teacher pinched the bridge of her nose in what seemed like frustration after I'd interrupted her lecture. Again.

"Young man. Please. Let me finish!"

Badly concealed chuckles resonated behind me; I even glanced at Kiku who looked like he was straining to keep his lips in a straight line.

I didn't get what was so funny? All I wanted was to be the best I could. I thought teacher's praised students for asking lots of questions?

* * *

The first month of college flew by and by now everyone knew my name. I was taken aside by Professor Clark one day at the end of class and she told me she loved my enthusiasm but needed to stop interrupting her lectures.

"But, Professor-"

She calmly held a hand up to silence me and smiled. "I can see you're passionate, Alfred. And I don't think I've ever answered so many questions on transmediation in all my life!" She chuckled good-naturedly; "To tell you the truth, I've never seen so much spice and determination in one single student before..." she trailed off and looked away thoughtfully.

I asked warily, "But... that's a good thing right? I just want to be-"

"The best?" she finished. She quickly glanced over to the door of her now empty lecture hall and took a tiny step towards me, lowering her voice, "Word of advice, Alfred, dear. This is one of the best schools for film in the whole country, without it specifically being a 'film school'. Students of all backgrounds come here to fulfil their dreams, and I have no doubt one day you'll make it." I grinned gratefully in appreciation since that was the first time any grown-up had ever said something positive about my ambition since... ever. "However, here's what's going to help you move forward..."

I shifted on my feet slightly and listened with curiosity.

"Respect all your professors. As far as you're concerned, my word is law. But there's a reason for that and that's what will help you evolve. Challenge what you 'already know' and embrace everything! That's why you should always listen, and stop butting into my lectures..." she added with stern raised brows.

I smiled sheepishly and shrugged.

"Next thing: study hard and read the damn text books – I know already half the class doesn't bother. But, trust me; you won't _believe_ what you'll get in reward if you do.

"I can already see you make friends easily. That's good. Never screw your friends over Alfred. You'll never know when you need their help. Make connections and stick with them.

"Study every possible subject within the art. Filmmaking is about your ability to understand every part of the process and translate it into meaningful story... you still with me, Alfred?"

I nodded eagerly, not taking my eyes off of her.

"Utilize every possible resource. Our school has two working studios. Three if you count the one in the music department. I'm sure you wouldn't want to spend thousands to use those same exact resources elsewhere!" I was about to suggest how my parent's had money, but she carried on in quick haste. "Don't be afraid of failing, Alfred. In fact, get used to it. The day it doesn't bother you is the day you can put yourself out there."

I bit my lip and considered this.

"Read books! You have no idea how many students don't take this one seriously. Any books: fantasy, action, romance, horror – even poetry if you're into it! No matter what you will be doing, you will be communicating in the English language. This isn't just for screen writing, but for the way you look too! If you look well read, you'll come off as smart."

I nod my head in fervent agreement.

"Finally, and this is probably the most precious, undervalued thing of all; among those people you befriend, you will always find that one rare person who truly believes in you and your work. Those people are the most valuable resource on this planet. They are your unobtainium – recognise that? Treat them as such. Always respect your rarest commodity. And take every opportunity you can grab..." she quickly glanced up to the clock and looked at me in alarm, "Oh, dear, I apologise! You better go before you're late for your next class!" I snapped out of my reverie and saw I had less than two minutes to get to class.

I sincerely thanked her as fast as I could and dashed towards the door.

"Remember what I said, Alfred!" she shouted as I hurried down the hall.

* * *

Another week went by, and me and Matt sat on our beds playing Ridge Racer Unbounded after a long day of working hard on our film projects.

We were doing this thing called genre shifting. Basically, we were given a different movie each and had to make a trailer for it, but this time had to retell the plot of the story by taking different clips from the movie and twisting it into a different genre from the original.

I was given Mary Poppins and, of course, decided to twist it into a horror movie.

* * *

The day of presentation I volunteered to show my trailer first. Professor Clark obliged with a knowing smile as I walked to the front and inserted my memory stick into the laptop. All my documents showed up on the projector and I thanked God I remembered to delete all that porn I'd downloaded during high school.

I finally found my trailer and it went to full screen. Professor Clark turned the lights off and stood by the door, surprised when she heard a knock.

The door opened and my eyes fixed on a young man with choppy blonde hair and a white T-shirt revealing his arms, asking something I couldn't hear from Professor Clark.

My insides flipped when I recognised that same light blonde hair and tattoos. I attempted desperately to keep my composure as he made his way across the room, his thick black boots leaving a noisy _thud _on the floor with every step. I stayed rooted to the spot, unaware I was staring at him until he flashed his lime green eyes at me apologetically.

"Sorry!" he whispered as he passed me, a distinctly recognisable British accent departing his lips, before ambling across to grab a spare camera tripod. He stepped passed me again and smiled politely before hurrying back through the door.

I swallowed a nervous lump in my throat, clenching from the upturning butterflies in my stomach as he stood back next to Professor Clark. He whispered something to her privately. She saw me looking her way and insisted, "Ready, Alfred?"

I blinked and looked away, facing the small lecture hall of students languidly waiting for me to start.

I introduced myself, despite people already knowing my name.

"Hey, uh, Alfred Jones," I waved a hand confidently, some girls giggled. My nerves grew as I realised the Brit was still standing by the door. "For my project I was given Mary Poppins and, naturally, decided to turn it into a horror movie trailer..." I glanced at the door and realised the he had turned around to watch, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed, tri-pod in one hand. I swallowed and cleared my throat, "'Hope ya'll like it."

Turning back to Professor's laptop, I pressed play and the whole dark room lit up with the ever-changing lights from the projector screen, accompanied with the creepy introductory drone of a clock tower bell. I stood by the side and fidgeted with my hands in my pockets, trying painfully not to look back at the door where I knew the tattooed Brit was watching my trailer.

During those agonisingly long two minutes, I scanned the small hall of students; some sitting straight as they watched, other's resting lazily against their hands before jolting in their seats and letting out a small laugh as Mary Poppin's popped out of nowhere on the screen.

I defied myself, casually sneaking a glance towards the door where Professor Clark stood watching enthusiastically next to the tattooed Brit with his tripod. I noticed one corner of his lips curled up in amusement as he stared at the screen with the movie lights reflecting off his curious face.

The trailer ended and everybody clapped. I found Kiku in the crowd clapping next to my empty seat, contently impressed, and I couldn't help but glance back towards the door, seeing the tattooed Brit clap with his tripod held awkwardly in his arms, before Professor Clark hushed everyone to evaluate my work.

Despite everyone's eyes on me, all I could feel was his, watching me from the door. After numerous questions and comments from the class, I finally went to unplug my memory stick, but when I turned around I realised with a stab of disappointment he was no longer there.

I went back to my seat and somebody else stepped forward to show their creation, but as I sat down I looked back towards the door again. Despite the relief flooding throughout my whole body, I almost wished he'd come back again just so I could see his face one last time.

* * *

The next morning I'd gone out early to buy some more Coco Crispies since we'd run out of cereal that morning. Admittedly, Matt _had_ told me to stop eating huge bowls of cereal every night before bed otherwise we'd run out – I probably should've taken his advice. Well, I would've if they didn't taste so good. He told me eating before bed was one of the main causes for obesity. I told him to chill since I hit the gym most evenings after class anyway.

I made my way back to campus with two plastic bags in one hand filled with four boxes of cereal. I hardly even noticed a young man leaning against the wall smoking a cigarette before approaching the building of my dorm. His messy blonde hair stuck up this way and that like he'd just gotten out of bed.

_HAAAAHOLYFUCKINGFUCK!_ My brain screamed as I realised exactly who it was.

My body automatically tensed as I reluctantly walked passed him to open the door. It felt uncomfortably rude just ignoring him, so I perked up my courage and awkwardly smiled and said "Mornin'!"

He blew out a puff of smoke in the cool morning air and displayed his white teeth in a courteous grin, "Good morning," he replied calmly before taking another drag on his cigarette.

Well, at least I got that over with. I exhaled in relief and turned to face the door.

"I liked your movie by the way."

Spoke too soon. I stopped in my tracks and turned to face him again, noticing his eyes glance quickly up and down my body as he blew out more smoke.

I smiled awkwardly, "Thanks" and cleared my throat, "Um, my name's Alfred."

He placed the cigarette in his left hand and stepped forward to hold out his right, "Arthur," he announced. We shook, "pleasure to meet you."

It struck me how polite he was. Not that I didn't notice his accent; I knew British people were supposed to have good manners, but the vision of him fucking that guy hard up the ass bombarded my thoughts and momentarily diverted my attention, making me forget Arthur was still speaking to me.

"Huh?" I started absentmindedly, blinking away the unwanted memories.

"I said, is this your first year?" he repeated, leaning back against the wall.

I racked my brain for an answer as I studied his face; the way his lime green irises contrasted against the dark bags under his eyes. I also detected a silver piercing in one of his thick, rather bushy eyebrows. "Yeah, I'm studying Film right now," I replied casually.

He nodded in approval, blowing out another stream of smoke, "Want to make movies, eh?" he grinned kindly.

I nodded cheerfully, "What about you? Is this your first year?" I asked, slightly sceptical since he did look older.

"Nah, second year in Musical arts. I was going to do English literature but... I didn't think I could stand another year of bloody Shakespeare."

We chuckled and I watched as he sucked in another drag.

A few awkward seconds passed as we both stood there, slowly watching the smoke disperse through the chill morning air. Suddenly, an unwanted thought hit me like a train.

_I masturbated over you last night._

Feeling my cheeks incinerate, I cleared my throat and slowly inched towards the door, "So, um, I guess I'll see you around?"

He nodded.

"It was nice meeting you!"

He waved back and smiled, "You too, mate," before I disappeared through the door.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

I bumped into Arthur more and more as time went by.

He surprised me a few times at the gym. I usually saw him either running for, I swear, _hours_ on the treadmill or lifting weights afterwards, completely drenched in sweat.

He always had his arms out on show. My guess: to show off his cool tattoos, though I'd never once seen him with sleeves any longer than his elbows despite the weather growing considerably colder outside.

One time from a distance I'd watched him from my bench as he stood on the other side of the room doing deadlifts. His arms were down straight holding onto a heavy barbell as he squatted down low until the weights at each end of the bar touched the floor. He repeated this a few times and each time I could not stop staring at his ass. I needed to snap out of it before someone noticed, but it was so fucking taught and round. I subconsciously touched my own butt, watching as his shorts tightened and rode up slightly as he squatted.

I focused on his arm covered in tattoos. Without my glasses it would have been a messy blur of ink, but with them on (and thanks to his reflection in the gym mirrors) I could make out skulls and red roses, even a pair of white angel wings going down his forearm. There was an old style tattoo banner with a red heart wrapped across his lower bicep just above his elbow with calligraphy on it that I could just make out as 'MUM'. There was a mix of all sorts of black, white and grey pictures and patterns that meshed in and fit tightly together like puzzle pieces, like small birds and I swear, a top hat with a monocle underneath it somewhere. A black and grey shaded roaring lion climbed up his bicep, and I could imagine there were more tattoos disappearing under his ripped sleeveless black shirt.

I couldn't deny his tattoos were cool, especially with the contrast of the red heart and roses against the black and grey. He even had some tattoos on his calves but I couldn't make out what they were exactly.

With one final squat, Arthur let go of his barbell with a huff of relief. He suddenly spotted me in the mirror looking at him and turned around casually to wave. I smiled meekly and waved back; slightly embarrassed that he'd caught me watching in the mirror.

As he walked away towards the changing rooms I realised just how defined Arthur's muscles were. He literally had barely any fat on his body, as regards to his butt which was big and round and I wondered whether it was all the squatting that'd got it that big or if he'd always been like that. His leanness made the muscles on his arms and legs all the more prominent which suited the rugged appearance he carried around everywhere; accentuated with the harsh, dark circles under his eyes. I looked at my own muscles and tensed, knowing I was strong but had a thin layer of fat surrounding my muscles that I found too annoyingly difficult to get rid of.

What can I say? I like to eat.

It didn't make me look chubby, just made me look somewhat brawnier I guess, but Arthur's slimmer frame didn't make him look weak by any means. I was pretty sure he could defend himself in a fight – his broad and wiry body made him look solid, though I had to admit, his tattoos and piercings helped by giving off a haughty 'take no shit' demeanour. I noticed he had a few piercings in his ears as well.

Who knows, maybe it was just a front to stop people bothering him? I'll admit he didn't look too approachable when I first met him smoking against the wall that morning, but after greeting him and shaking his hand, I was surprised by how friendly he actually was.

Like any normal person consciously trying not to appear like stalker, I turned away from the punky blonde wiping the sweat dripping off his neck, and laid down to bench some more weights.

Still, annoyingly however, I'd found him present in my mind more times than I'd like to admit.

* * *

I grabbed a pizza from town after Matt texted me to say we'd run out of food. Thankfully we still had cereal thanks to me buying at least three or four boxes at a time when we went shopping. Sure I'd just worked out at the gym but pizza's got tomatoes in it, right? One of my five a day!

I made my way back to campus, stealing a slice of pizza from the box on the way and got in just before the clock hit seven.

Reaching the top of the stairs I popped the last bit of pizza in my mouth and sucked on my fingers as I walked down the hallway, when I noticed a guy wearing a green Celtic sports jersey exiting room 69. He ascended down the hallway, smirking when he saw me sucking the tomato sauce off my fingers. When he passed, I looked back just in time to see him checking me out before jogging down the stairs.

I cringed awkwardly and wiped my fingers off on my jeans as I stepped curiously towards room 69. Loud voices boomed through the open door that the guy hadn't even bothered to close and my insides prickled with anticipation after remembering what I saw last time. I slowly snuck my head round the corner, realising the door was virtually open all the way and almost fucking dropped my pizza as the display in front of me lodged itself permanently in my brain forever.

That same long-haired man who got fucked weeks ago, lay shirtless on a bed, stroking his erection from an open zipper through his jeans as he licked between the guy's taught, round ass above his face; an ass too familiar to not be recognized.

Arthur sat with his legs either side of the man's head at the top of the bed, facing away from me as he held onto the headboard. He raised his face to the ceiling as the guy's tongue flicked back and forth between his cheeks, making Arthur twitch and quiver, whilst another guy wearing a red sports jersey filmed the dirt from up close.

Suddenly, Arthur was shifting himself from the man's face and climbed off the bed, holding his dick in one hand before his startled green eyes found mine.

_FUCK._

A few guys drinking bear followed Arthur's line of sight, as well as the camera man who turned the camcorder straight towards me and laughed.

"WHO LEFT THE FUCKING DOOR OPEN?" Arthur barked furiously as everyone watched me run. The stupid pizza dropped from my hands so I had to run back just as five broad dudes scrambled after me down the hall. I barely made it to the door before I was hauled back and picked up off the ground by all five of them.

"MATTHE-" Someone clasped a thick hand around my mouth as I kicked and struggled, but there were five of them and only one of me so I had no chance of escaping.

My heart beat accelerated in my chest at the thought of all five of them beating the shit out of me. I continued to struggle in their grasp but realised hopelessly that I wasn't going anywhere.

Except, of course, room 69.

All five of them carried me through the entrance, telling me to shut up as I yelled through the guy's hand and tried to bite his skin.

"Ah! You little _fucker!"_ He cried as I was slung onto a bed, the same bed Arthur had just had his ass eaten off of. Four of them pinned my arms and legs down so I couldn't escape, whilst the guy I'd just bitten rubbed his hand and glared at me, pissed.

Someone closed the door and pretty soon a small hoard of young college guys with plastic cups and bottles of beer crowded around me, including the guy with the camcorder licking his lips deviously as I tried to search for Arthur.

Arthur slipped through the crowd; one lit cigarette in his hand. At least he had the decency to put on a pair of black undies before addressing my forced and obviously less-than-willing company.

_What a gentleman._

He watched me casually from the side whilst totally unfazed by the four guys pinning me to the bed. Nonchalance radiated throughout his body and I couldn't help but notice a silver ring in his left nipple.

"What the hell's going on?" I yelled as I tried to look anywhere but the stark erection protruding underneath his pants.

"Care to join us?" Arthur drawled, taking one long drag from his cigarette and blowing it out with a wicked smile.

I shook my head in disgust. "No! Get me the _fuck_ out of here!"

The crowd 'oooed' sarcastically and laughed, joking around with each other as they imitated my voice and made fun of my struggling.

Arthur sniffed haughtily; smoke puffing out of his nose, "Charming." He studied his prisoner, "Look. We don't mean any harm."

I looked at him incredulously; bearing in mind I'd just been chased and pinned to a bed. He inhaled and handed his cigarette to the guy next to him, blowing the smoke in his face indifferently. That earned a few measly chuckles from the crowd. He stepped forward and bent over me so his face was literally inches from mine. He licked his teeth and held me with his striking green eyes.

"I think you were looking for someone, Alfred," he drawled in a low husky voice.

I stared back, challenging him with my own stern, confused face as I swallowed, feeling my cheeks heat up as he placed a lingering hand just below my sternum. My eyes followed as his hand trailed down my stomach and stopped just on my navel, "Isn't that why you're always staring at my arse in the gym?"

At that moment I felt my whole face flush with embarrassment as he continued to challenge me with his menacing grin.

An unwelcome sensation twitched in my pants and for one fleeting moment I thought his hand was going to venture lower, but instead, he lifted himself away to stand and looked down at me with haughty disdain.

"We'll let you go. _If..._" he threatened a stern finger, "You swear not to tell _anyone_ about this room." The crowd around us watched me seriously; a few people nodded. "And if you see any of us around: don't. Mention. _Anything.._. To_ anyone_. Is that clear?"

I nodded willingly, almost feeling like I was being scolded by a teacher.

"I can't hear you."

I cried, "YES! Yes, I swear, I won't say a word!"

He looked around at his peers for affirmation and nodded his head.

"FUCK HIM!" Someone yelled jokingly in the back but Arthur rolled his eyes impatiently.

"Let him go, lads."

I gradually felt the pressure release from my arms and legs and rubbed my wrists to get the blood flowing again. A few guys eyed me suspiciously, on guard to see if I'd do anything unexpected, whilst everyone else dispersed to grab new beers and do whatever the hell they did in this fucked-up playroom.

I warily climbed off the bed; aware people were still watching me as I met Arthur, still in his black undergarments, standing by the open doorway. It was bizarre to see a man so impassive to his nakedness in a room full of... well, fags. Unless he was a fag too, which only an idiot could miss after what I'd just witnessed.

I met him at the door as he watched me coolly, not caring if anyone walked past the open doorway.

We locked eyes for what seemed like only a few seconds before I abruptly turned around to find a guy pointing his camcorder in my face.

I automatically pushed a hand out to shield me and glared at Arthur before his smug grin disappeared from sight as I stormed out. The door slammed shut behind me.

Before reaching my room, I stopped and sighed heavily in defeat. Luckily most of Matt's pizza was still intact as it lay in the crumpled Domino's box on the floor.

I picked it up and checked inside before finding my keys and unlocking the door. Random jeers resonated undoubtedly from the room I couldn't mention, scornfully driving me to close the door behind me as quick as possible.

Matt turned around in his computer chair with the TV on in the background, "Hey, you ok-k-kay?"

"Here's your pizza," I mumbled, thrusting the pizza box in his hands and slumping moodily onto my bed.

"Alfred?" Matt asked worriedly.

"Just eat your pizza," I replied, rolling around to face the wall.

I stared at the tiny specks in the wall, sulkily folding my arms and not caring that I hadn't taken my sneakers off yet.

I lay there for a while, reliving what had just happened across the hallway a thousand times before an unexpected_ ting!_ knocked me from my daydream.

I heard a clattering of plates and soon could hear Matt's footsteps getting closer before I felt a soft nudge on the shoulder.

I turned around to see him holding a plate of heated pizza out towards me. "The pizza was c-cold."

My belly grumbled just at that moment and was thankful for him being so considerate.

He smiled as I sat up and took the plate. He sat on his bed opposite the next wall and I noticed he put more pizza on my plate than his.

I was going to bring it up when he asked, "Are you sure y-y-you're okay?"

My God, I wanted to tell him _everything_ and even wondered if he already knew... I mean, it was only across the hall!

"I'm just..." what was I suppose to say? "Tired. You know – from the gym."

Matt nodded but I could tell he didn't believe me. "Y-you sure? You know we've been f-f-friends for like over t-t-two months now, right? You can t-t-t-tell me what's up, bu-but if it's something personal I'll ba-b-b-back off."

I knew he was only trying to help, but how the hell was I suppose to explain doom 69? As if the number didn't give some clue of it away already. I felt like punching the wall in frustration but aggressively shoved a slice of pizza in my mouth instead.

Matt bit into his and waited patiently, watching me as I openly chomped and avoided his eyes to look at the TV. I sighed, accidently blowing a bit of chewed up pizza from my mouth and looked at him.

"There's this guy and..." I swallowed and took another bite, knowing full well I shouldn't be saying this. "He's, like... gay."

"Okay..." Matt nodded, waiting but realising I wasn't going to say anymore, "Is th-that it?"

I exhaled in exasperation, suddenly regretting the thought of telling him in the first place.

"...Yes." I finished quickly, deciding to leave it there.

He quirked a confused eyebrow, "Alfred, you're n-not a ho-homophobe are you? 'Cause you were pretty up-ups-s-set..."

I gulped a massive lump of pizza painfully down my throat and waved my hands out in front of me. "No! No, that's not..." I realised now I couldn't get myself out of what I'd just started, "He's... well..."

Matt continued to look at me strangely as I floundered, trying to find the right words, but then I thought, fuck it, and let my mouth run ahead before my brain could tell me I would regret it later, "He's... he's filming pornography in his room! Our neighbour's a porn star!"

Matt almost choked on his pizza in shock and scrunched up his face in disbelief, "_What?_ But... how do you...?"

Despite what I promised, I'd already gone too far to stop, "These guys – they carried me into his room..." I placed my empty plate on the side table and waved my last slice of pizza around in the air. "It's like they have some kind of fraternity thing going on in there! And they pinned me to the bed and that guy, Arthur – Arthur's his name by the way – stood over me and started touching me an..." I stopped, regarding Matthew withdrawing back slightly as he listened, looking somewhat uncomfortable.

"They pinned you to-t-to a bed?" He asked incredulously. I nodded.

I told him everything. From the day I saw Arthur having sex with that long-haired guy over the table, to today when I explained, probably in more detail than was necessary, about the rim job he'd received by the same person.

I was surprised by how easy it was to talk to Matthew, though I think I may have told him a little _too_ much since the pale look of discomfort didn't leave his face even after I'd finished.

He shifted awkwardly on his bed, "You should warn a professor-"

"-NO!" I shouted a bit too loudly.

"Alfred!" he exclaimed, and that was the first time I'd ever heard him raise his voice, "What if-if another student or, wor-worse, a _professor_ walks by a-a-and finds the shock of his life s-since this Ar-Arthur guy's ab-bi-...bility to close his own d-door seems p-pretty tardy..." he swallowed to moisten his mouth and carried on, "P-plus! How-how would the college react if they f-f-fou-found out a bunch of guys were secret-secretly filming pornography on campus? It's illegal you know!"

I popped the last bit of pizza crust in my mouth and considered this seriously, knowing I really shouldn't have opened my damn mouth.

"Promise me you won't tell anyone," I begged gravely.

Matt looked at me in disapproval, "Alfred-"

"Promise!"

He regarded the grave desperation in my face then sighed reluctantly in defeat. He got up to grab my plate. "Fine."

* * *

**Just a heads up: this story is not going to be purely about sex. I don't know if that's how it's coming off to you (and please let me know if it is!), but there are other deeper issues that will be brought up later on in the story. **

**But again, thanks for reading and tell me what you think!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Since that rather unpleasant encounter in doom 69, most evenings I'd march past that door as quick as I could, anxious not to run into any of those guys again.

It's not that I was scared of them! I was just... well... getting chased and pinned down to a bed by five jock-like college students was a _little_ bit of a traumatic experience.

I recognised one or two of them as I walked through college some days and awkwardly enough, recognised a few of them in my classes. Some of them would give me a glance of recognition and smirk mischievously; others would completely ignore me altogether.

Not to be stereotypical or anything, but these guys... they didn't _look_ gay at all. In fact, I swear I saw one of them holding hands with a girl at one point – which confused the heck outta me. If these guys were straight, why did they meet up in a secret room with camcorders and film each other having sex?

Maybe they're all in denial...

Well, I only _really_ saw _Arthur_ fucking another dude, so that posed an even bigger question as to why they were all in there watching him in the first place?

My first thought was a fraternity. If it involved alcohol, picking on other dudes and being gay around each other, it was probably a fraternity. Plus, Arthur seemed to have enough control over them for it to be. Was he their leader or something?

Maybe they were having a party?

_With camcorders?_ The thought boggled my mind.

But _why_? Why, why, _why_ would you go to a party to fuck your own bros instead of inviting a bunch of willing girls instead? I know guys tend to think with their dicks, but come on!

Had I misunderstood the term "bros before hoes" all this time...?

Although, I didn't mean to pry on other people's business; if that's what they're into then whatever, as long as they didn't do it to me.

A guilty curl of heat erupted at the base of my tummy and I abruptly shook my head.

Okay. _So what_ if I used the room's recent activity for 'material' when alone in the bathroom?

But... okay,_ fine_... now that I'd thought about it (whilst sitting in the small lecture hall with Professor Clark discussing the importance of transmediation again), I reluctantly admitted to myself that I didn't really use much else to... _you know_.

Even the porn on my laptop didn't excite me as much as it used to.

My thoughts swirled, but I didn't want to admit that the girls on my laptop didn't get me as hard as they used to – though, the thought of slapping that limey's amazing ass was so pleasurably distracting it almost gave me a boner during class.

_Shut up and focus, Alfred! Remember what Professor Clark told you..._

I dug around in my head, realising with disbelief that Christmas was just around the corner.

_Respect your professors. Don't screw your friends over... study hard and, uh... _

_Read books! Yeah, maybe a book will help me focus..._

* * *

I met Kiku at the end of the day and we bumped into Matt talking sweetly with a girl named Hayley. I recognised her as one of the girls who always giggled when I said something in class.

I didn't know what she found so funny.

She quickly tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear and grinned up at me despite Matt still talking. He turned and smiled at me too, a little thrown by her sudden change of attention.

"Hey, Alfred!" Hayley purred excitedly, fluttering her eyelashes.

"Herro, Matew" Kiku smiled.

"Hi, uh," Mathew started, glancing back at Hayley, "Hayley was j-just wo-wondering if you'd both like to go to her pa-p-" he swallowed, "p-party this S-s-s-saturday?"

I answered for both of us, "Sure, sounds awesome!"

Kiku grinned and nodded in agreement.

"Cool!" Hayley replied a little too enthusiastically. "Eight o'clock, dorm 17. Say, uh..." she titled her head and twirled a strand of hair around her finger, "you doing anything right now?" she asked hopefully, completely ignoring Matthew.

I shrugged, "Well, I was going to find a book in the library."

"You read, Alfred?" Kiku gawked at me in surprised.

"Sure! All the time, dude!"

I noticed Matt cock an eyebrow.

Hayley hadn't taken her eyes off me, "What kind of books do you read?"

My mind blanked. Did comic books count?

"Oh, y'know," I shrugged coolly, "ssstuff..."

"Mind if I join you?" She asked eagerly as if I was going someplace fun.

"Um, sure," I shrugged again as she tagged along beside me, "Later, dude!" I hollered as Matthew stood there, a little taken aback by Hayley's desertion. She didn't even turn around to say goodbye.

"S-See, ya," he waved timidly, but Hayley hadn't seen him.

* * *

Hayley nudged into me a lot as we both walked to the library. I didn't mind, I just found it bit weird. Kiku had to leave to finish an assignment due next Monday (which I probably should've been doing) and left us both together which, to be honest, I kinda wished he hadn't.

She asked me lots of questions like if I was enjoying college, and what I wanted to do when I leave. That was all well and good, but I did feel kinda awkward for some reason. I loved talking about the future and happily told her about my plans, but then she kept pushing for more and more questions and I was beginning to feel like I was being interrogated, or worse, interviewed for some glossy magazine. She clung onto my every word and probed as much as she could, like every miniscule little detail was a clue to some sort of discovery; all in only three minutes whilst walking to the library.

I was almost relieved when I opened the old wooden library doors and entered a room full of nothing but the light shuffle of feet from students searching for books and the soft swishes of paper.

"Wow," Hayley whispered as we walked in quietly, letting the door swing closed behind us. A few students looked up, including the librarian as the door slammed louder than we anticipated. Hayley giggled as I whispered, "Sorry!" and led me quickly behind an aisle of books where a pleasant-looking man with an unfaltering smile and a strange long curly piece of brown hair read happily through a book called 'Everyday Italian: 125 Delicious Recipes' .

The title actually made me hungry and I was tempted to leave and grab a McDonalds instead, until Hayley latched onto my arm and leaned over me. She reached up, giving me a good view of her diamond bellybutton ring, before grabbing a large book on how to bake cupcakes.

"Mmm," she playfully licked her lips, "don't you just _love_ cupcakes?"

I wriggled my brows suggestively in good humour, "Maybe we could bake some, some time?" I uttered, charming her with a grin and sneakily glanced down at her boobs as she opened the book.

"Hey!" she blushed, covering her chest with the book, "I saw that!" She didn't seem to mind though.

As she flicked through the pages, I secretly studied her face. She kind of reminded me of Melissa, the girl I took to prom. We never went out or anything, just shared a doobie and had sex during an after party at her house.

Melissa's eyes were brown, whereas Hayley's were blue like mine. I noticed the light freckles on her chest and wondered how much make-up she used to cover them up on her face. She had a brown bob-cut with bangs pinned back to show off her forehead, and lips slavered with probably a _ity-bity _too much pink lip gloss.

But she was hot. Her boobs weren't particularly big but that didn't matter 'cause they were still boobs.

She looked up from her page and caught me staring at them again. "Alfred!" She giggled, clearly not caring that from my height, her shirt allowed me the advantage of viewing straight down her cleavage. I flashed a cheeky grin as she looked up at me, biting her bottom lip innocently. She nudged her book against my arm and I playfully nudged her back, noticing the guy reading the Italian cook book glance our way and smile. I felt a sudden reckless desire to bring her back to my room, when I heard a quiet _click_ from someone closing the library door behind me.

I calmly looked over, but the lust in my belly disappeared, replaced by an overwhelming urge to run and hide.

"Al, what's-?"

In alarm, I snapped around to look at Hayley before yanking her roughly alongside me as we ran past the Italian cook book guy and hid behind another aisle of books.

She stared at me in heated confusion, "What are you doing!?"

I peaked around the side to see Arthur chatting to the librarian with his hands casually in his pockets and felt my heart beating so fast, I might as well had been hiding from aliens.

"_Alfred!"_

"What?" I called back absentmindedly, watching as Arthur disappeared behind one aisle of bookshelves. My face tingled from the aftershock of seeing him unexpectedly walk through the door, just as I was beginning to flirt with Hayley. I didn't know why I felt guilty. But suddenly I wished Hayley was somewhere else and not annoyingly prodding me in the stomach. She still had her book of cupcake recipes in her hands, "Are you going to tell me what's wrong, or what? Besides, you stepped on my foot!" She whined, fussing with her shoe.

I wished she'd stop talking so loud. People were looking up to see where the annoying voice was coming from.

"Shhh!" I gestured desperately, making her cock an eyebrow in bemusement.

"Excuse me?" she objected, slanting her neck to the side like she was about to give me a piece of her mind. "Who do you think you-"

"I think you better go," I reasoned with her, giving her a friendly pat on the shoulder as she continued to stare at me in disbelief with her mouth hanging wide open.

"Wha-" she started in apparent disgust as I looked around to try and find Arthur again. A discontented "_UGH!_" resonated behind me and I turned around to face her again. She angrily shoved the book of cupcake recipes at my chest and mumbled, "I'm outta here." Then she stormed down the aisle and furiously opened the door, slamming it shut for everyone to hear.

The huge sigh my lungs delivered made me fall back against the bookshelf in relief. I shoved the book of cupcake recipes randomly in an empty space and casually cleared my throat before making my way down the same aisle Hayley had angrily stormed through. I locked eyes coincidently with the Italian recipe guy and he smiled apologetically with a gleeful shrug. "I never understood a-women!" He chirped merrily in an unmistakable Italian accent.

I rolled my eyes, "Tell me about it."

* * *

I looked around the library for no book in particular, searching the aisles and cautiously looking around for any sign of Arthur.

For a moment I forgot the difference between fiction and non-fiction and settled with a familiar title called The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain, reading the blurb as I walked towards a snug little seating area. I remembered watching the movie 'Tom and Huck' when I was a kid and wondered if the book was anything like the movie. Nevertheless, I sat down on a plush purple couch and opened the book, when a distinct British voice made me freeze in my seat.

"Well, look who it is..." Arthur smirked as I quickly turned around in surprise.

Being distracted by the book, I hadn't realised he'd been sitting on the other end of the purple couch, one tartan clad leg crossed over the other.

I stammered as my brain scrambled for words, "Oh... _hey_, Um-"

He sat there calmly and glanced at the book in my hands, "What you reading?"

I shuffled awkwardly and fidgeted with the book, holding it up so he could see the title, "Uh, Tom Sawyer."

He seemed content and nodded in approval, "Haven't read that one. Is it good?"

My mind blanked for a second as if he'd asked me an impossible math question. Then I blinked and confessed awkwardly, "I haven't read it yet."

He nodded casually again. I quickly turned away uneasily and stared down at the cover of a kid lying under a tree with a white paintbrush and a straw hat.

Arthur's silence proved he'd gone back to reading as I heard the swish of a page, so I just sat there impatiently turning the cover of my book to read the words inside. They didn't register in my brain and I ended up rereading the same line over and over again until it sort of made sense. But eventually my impatience bubbled over, making me finally turn around to face Arthur again.

"Are you-um..." the restless words abandoned my mouth as soon as he looked at me expectantly. I tried again, "Whaaa...what cha readin'?"

He turned the cover of his thick leather-bound book and showed me an eerie old style print of a title called 'Grimm's Fairy Tales'.

I nodded in acknowledgment, pretending to seem familiar with the book. _If you look well read, you'll come off as smart, _Professor Clark reminded me in my head_._ I was convinced it worked until he asked me, "You read it before?"

Shit. What do I do – tell him the truth?

"Yeah, I've read... some of it before..." I lied.

The punk almost looked impressed. He pushed sceptically, "What's your favourite part?" I scrambled to think of something quick.

"Oh... y'know... the part where he, like..." Arthur waited, raising his bushy brows expectantly as I fumbled around with something to say, "um..."

His mouth slowly began to curl in amusement as I sighed in defeat and admitted coyly, "I have no idea."

He let out a small chuckle, trying to keep it discreet as a few faces looked up from their books. My cheeks tinged sheepishly and I couldn't help but notice how his face completely changed when he laughed. It was like a mould had been cracked and he didn't look so rough and unfriendly anymore; admittedly quite attractive.

An unexpected warmth throbbed in my tummy, taking me by surprise. I tried to shake it off.

"It's ok," he finally said, finishing his round of sniggers, "You don't have to pretend. I'm not that bothered you know..."

I smiled guiltily.

"Look," he said, his face losing some of its humour. He looked at me almost sympathetically now, this time struggling to find _his_ words. "I wanted to... apologise," he looked around to make sure no one was within earshot, "for..." he motioned his head awkwardly, "_you know."_

I did know, and I was quite surprised he even brought it up despite threatening me not to. I tried to answer in a casual tone, "Dude, it's... cool," but I think my discomfort came off as quite obvious.

He cleared his throat and smiled guiltily. "I'll, erh... well. I'll let you get on with your book."

But I closed it eagerly and insisted, "No! No, its fine, I don't..." I smiled sheepishly again, "to tell you the truth; I don't read a lot...like... ever."

He raised an eyebrow in puzzlement, "So why on earth are you here, of _all_ places?"

I screwed my lips to the side and shrugged, "I'm trying to focus my head... but I find it hard to read anything that doesn't have pictures in it..." I admitted bashfully.

"That's because you haven't found the right book yet," he offered, turning his lean wiry body slightly towards me. "What are you looking for, exactly?"

"I don't know. Something that'll broaden my mind and... inspire me in some way."

Arthur shrugged matter-of-factly, "In that case, choose anything." When he returned to his book I studied him thoughtfully.

"You don't look like the type to read," I queried, noting the tattoos, tartan red pants and black leather jacket hanging over the couch.

He quirked his eyebrows sceptically, "Anyone can read, Alfred," he noted simply, returning to his book.

"You should read to me," I said and he stared at me in palpable amusement.

"What are you, eight?" he scoffed lightly.

"Nineteen actually," I had one of those late summer birthdays that always made me the oldest in my class.

"Ahhh..." he said thoughtfully, "I forgot you've just come out of high school."

"Haven't you?"

Arthur sniggered, "Do I look like I've just come out of high school?" I shrugged. "Guess."

I looked at him strangely, "Guess what?"

"My age."

I shuffled in my seat to get comfy and placed a hand on my chin to study him, "Mmm... Twenty?"

"You're warm."

"Twenty-one?"

"Nope."

"Twenty-two?"

"Closer."

Twenty... four?"

"Alfred, you almost had it..." he rolled his eyes playfully.

I casually straightened in my seat, "You're twenty-three?"

He smiled and gave a modest nod.

"So why didn't you go to college straight after high school?"

"In case you didn't notice, I'm from England. Our schooling system's a bit different..." He paused for thought, "but as for the college thing..." he paused again and something forlorn flickered through his tired green eyes. "...guess I was just a... late bloomer," he insisted, settling with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

I nodded in acknowledgment, tilting my head and thinking for a moment. There was one – okay, a few questions fuelling my curiosity. "So..." I cleared my throat, "Can I ask-"

He closed his book abruptly and shot me a stern look before he even knew what I was going to say. "Let's talk outside. I need a fag." He was up and slipping on his leather jacket before I even acknowledged his words. He tucked the book under his arm and peered down at me expectantly. "Well, come on then!"

I stood up hesitantly, tossing Tom Sawyer on the table and followed Arthur to the door.

"Aren't you going to sign that out?" I questioned, motioning to the highly noticeable thick leather bound book under his arm. He quickly glanced back at the librarian and shrugged.

"Pfft. It'll be alright. Just come on," he urged impatiently as we made our way swiftly out the library.

* * *

"But... doesn't filming pornography make you a... _porn_ star?" I challenged, not quite believing my ears as Arthur sat hunched nonchalantly over open knees on some steps as I stood with my hands in my jacket pockets, shuffling from one foot to the other in the chilly winter cold.

"A _star_!" Arthur snorted derisively, silencing his laugh with a long drag on his cigarette, "Who ever thought I'd become a star, eh?" he joked cynically, clearly something going through his mind as I caught him staring ahead, deep in thought.

"And you're doing it for money?"

He shrugged, careless to my bewilderment, "Just a little more on the side to help me through college. No harm done."

A bitter gust of wind blew past us so I hugged my bomber jacket close, shivering and breathing out clouds of mist like Arthur did with his cigarette. He didn't seem as affected by the cold and continued to sit nonchalantly, sucking and blowing clouds of tobacco into the wind. I had to move so they weren't blowing in my face.

"What's the site called again?"

"Dorm 69 – why? Did you want a look later?" He smirked mischievously up at me, and I physically recoiled.

"No thanks! ... But... but what if people recognise you? Ever thought of that?"

Arthur withdrew complacently, stubbing the end of his cigarette on the concrete and chucking it carelessly into the bush next to us.

"Do you watch porn, Alfred?" he asked.

I raised a brow, slightly caught off guard, "Hey, answer my question first!"

"I'll answer you when you answer mine. Do you watch porn?"

"Not _gay_ porn..."

"But you watch porn, yes?" he pushed a little impatiently.

"Well... yes, but-"

"Fuckin' hell, we got there," he rolled his eyes, adjusting his elbows on his knees. "Do you know how many people on this planet have posted self-made porn on the internet, Alfred?"

I shook my head, not sure where he was going with this.

"And do you ever recognise those people from RedTube or... whatever the hell you use on the internet, happily sipping coffee in Starbucks or serving you at the till in Walmart?"

I shook my head again.

"Well then." He said matter-of-factly, looking at me with slight amusement, "Who's to say anyone's going to recognise _my_ ugly mug?"

He had a point, but the idea of him doing it in his college dorm room still baffled me. "But it's illegal..." I quoted Matthew, still trying to make some sense out of it.

He scoffed, "Doesn't stop _you_ from watching it!"

He caught me off guard again as I stood there fiddling with my hands in my pockets, trying to understand his seemingly careless, bizarre intentions.

"Why don't you just get a job?" I countered, a little sharper than intended.

He narrowed his eyes at me and snarled, "For your information, I already have a job, dickhead," he said as bitterly as the wind. He clucked his tongue, "How about you? What do _you_ do for a living besides make your soddin' little movies?"

Fuck. I didn't want to admit that I was rich, but he'd caught me off guard enough times already, and it's not like my previous attempts at lying blew past him without him getting sceptical anyway.

I exhaled and muttered reluctantly, "I don't have a job."

This seemed to satisfy him.

"Well, hey, if you want one, feel free to be our new camera man."

I recoiled in protest, "I'm not fucking gay!"

Arthur scoffed and raised his pierced eyebrow, "Pfft, could have fooled me! The way you stare at _my _arse in the gym..."

_Did he have to bring that up again? _I ignored the anger in my chest and the burning in my cheeks, and thanked God it was fucking Baltic outside so the burning blush could be blamed on the cold. "Why would I want to be a part of your... stupid porn site anyway?"

Arthur stared back at me in amusement, playfully portraying his hurt, "Ooff. 'Cause only sick wankers watch porn, am I right?" The corners of his lips curled wickedly, "You'd know that since you're such agood boy..."

My cheeks continued to heat up as I countered, "Not from _your_ site...

"Oh, come on! Put your talent to some good use-"

"WHAT?" I yelled furiously in surprise, "I'm not using my talent to film some sleazy, low-budget... shitty porno! Besides, how many times have I told you: I'M NOT GAY."

Arthur rolled his eyes and looked at me witheringly, "Oh, shut up. You don't have to be gay to film a gay porno! Why else did you think those guys fucking chased you down the hall..."

I stared at him in abrupt surprise. "What. You mean...?"

He nodded, "Believe it or not, I'm the only queer in that room. Though, sometimes I wonder..." He trailed off, shaking his head at the thought.

I froze in astonishment, not quite sure if I believed him. "But, what about that guy you fucked?"

"What guy?" He pulled his eyebrows together suspiciously, "Do you mean to tell me you've seen more...?"

I wished I'd kept my mouth shut but slyly dodged his last question and remarked, "The stubbly guy with the long blonde hair."

He thought for a long second before finally answering; "You mean frog face?"

My brows furrowed in confusion, "What kinda name is 'frog face'?"

"His real name's Francis. French guy. I hate to admit it but he's a good shag. He's into both – you know, bisexual. Though, I think he borderlines more on _anything_-sexual..."

I took this in regard, confused but trying not to let that one word 'bisexual' ponder my thoughts. "Is he your boyfriend?" The words felt strangely bitter on my lips.

He scrunched his nose and shook his head. "Nah!" But then his expression faltered, "Well... Once, but..." he shrugged, stopping his sentence there. I saw something deep like melancholy in his eyes. I was curious, so I gently pressed:

"What happened?"

He stared at the pavement between his legs, but I could tell in his actions that there was something he was holding back. He sighed, "It just... didn't work out. No dramas, just..." he ended it with a shrug, and I didn't know if he was just doing that to get me off his back or if there was something he really didn't want to talk about. I awkwardly looked down to my feet and blew out a stream of cold mist.

"Come on," he said suddenly, climbing onto his feet. He lodged 'Grimm's Fairy Tales' under his armpit and briskly pulled his hands into his leather jacket pockets, "I'm freezing my tits off."

* * *

"Um, Alfred?" Arthur uttered apologetically after we made our way down the hall to our rooms; stopping first at dorm 69. "You know I didn't mean to offend you back there."

I tried to keep nonchalant but a strange knot wouldn't leave my stomach, "Whatever," I said but he continued to look at me warily.

"It's just... if you ever need a bit of money – I'm not saying you have to shag anyone! Just... consider the cameraman-thing. I dunno. You'll be surprised with what a little extra money can do. It might help you with food or something..."

I looked at him with snide disbelief – to think I actually thought this guy was smart. "I don't see how filming your dirty porn is going to help me in the slightest," I said disdainfully, but despite my efforts he still didn't even seem in the slightest bit affronted by my constant rejection.

He literally just shrugged, "Fine," and turned away to open the door. I was a bit taken aback by his sudden finality, but then he turned around and looked at me one last time. "Feel free to have a peek when you're passing through. Oh wait. You already do." He shut the door in my face and I was left standing there agape in the hallway, the knot in my stomach growing more intense since I realised the meaning behind his words.

He'd caught me. There was no use in denying it. He'd caught me.

I made my way back to my dorm and battled the shame rising in my stomach, as well as the knot that kept getting tighter and tighter the more I thought about it.

I was over the whole gay thing – probably shouldn't have used the words 'I'M NOT GAY' so much to prove my point. Looking back, I cringed and realised I'd sounded like a complete jerk. I used it as an excuse because the truth behind what I'd suspected was so _unexpected_ that I couldn't think of what to say. He didn't seem to care that I'd said no, but... but my declination wasn't because of the fact that the porn was gay (or mostly anyway). I tried to dig around my restless tornado of a mind to find any other excuses.

But the one thing that kept jumping out at me like a whack-a-mole was this: Arthur.

It was Arthur who'd be in front of that camera, doing things that for some reason ignited an intense heat that travelled all the way up to my cheeks and lit them up like two red Christmas lights.

He said filming was only a suggestion – for money to help me through college. I forgot to tell him I already had money... but, maybe that was just his way of being considerate. Still, mentally, I didn't know if I could do it.

Did I find him intimidating? No. Well... I don't know. I didn't know what I felt to be completely honest. He made me feel... strange. I wouldn't say I was scared of doing it – sure I'd never witnessed real-life porn before (even if it _was_ gay), but I felt trippy knowing I'd be filming in front of a bunch of guys – straight guys for that matter – and focusing on all the things that... I almost cringe at for thinking about.

Cocks and balls. I shuddered. Hairy cocks and balls.

I shook my head and told myself to shut up. Glad there was no one around to hear me as I tried to concentrate on something else.

Party on Saturday – well, if Hayley still wanted me there. I couldn't really remember what had happened after I'd seen Arthur in the library and pulled her behind that book aisle. The next thing I knew she'd shoved a book at my chest and stormed off.

That Italian dude was right; I'll never understand women.

* * *

Saturday night. Kiku sat politely on the couch in mine and Matt's room, idly waiting and watching Jerry Springer on the TV before all three of us made our way across campus to Hayley's dorm.

Hayley was one of those people who made friends quite easily thanks to her loud and confident personality, so it wasn't a surprise we had to make our way through hordes of students in the hallway, leaking from her stuffed dormitory.

Pop music blared from speakers that could be heard from outside the campus building, making it easier to find which room the party was held.

I hadn't remembered her room number anyway.

For a moment I fretted about the long essay I had to finish for Monday, but as soon as I spotted Antonio – an _extremely _polite and friendly Spanish guy I'd befriended one recent lunch time who majored in dance – my worries melted away.

He dragged us eagerly to where the drinks were and literally shoved them in our hands. By the timid look of self-consciousness on Matt's face, I wondered with a sense of guilt whether he'd actually ever been to a party before.

I accidently caught Hayley's eye from across the room talking to some of her friends, and quickly turned back to the group of guys I'd settled into conversation with.

"That was awkward," I muttered as Antonio and a few others snuck a glance towards Hayley's group of gossiping girlfriends.

"She's so hot," growled Kaiden, a tall jock who accidently dyed his hair purple that I messed around with at break and sometimes sat next to in class.

"Who?" I asked, sneaking a casual glance in his line of sight.

He pointed with his beer, "Hayley. What I'd do to that girl..."

I shrugged nonchalantly and took a swig from my bottle. He looked at me oddly.

"Dude, you wouldn't?"

I crinkled my nose and shrugged again, considering it for a moment as I accidently caught her eye again.

"She definitely digs you man. One time in class I thought she was trying to get my attention, turns out she was staring at you!" he laughed, then raised an eyebrow and nudged me with his arm, "Hey, Al, did you hear what I said?"

I blanked momentarily and watched as Hayley said something like a goodbye to her friends, then made her way through the crowds of people dancing. Kaiden nudged me again, harder.

"_Duuuude_, she's coming over!" he said as the rest of our group watched her approach with ready smiles.

"Hey guys," she said cheerfully, and then looked at me, "Hey Al..." Her tone was forgiving and almost sultry; I assumed she'd gotten over what'd happened in the library the other day.

"'Sup, Hayley," I replied coolly, trying to relieve some of the discomfort in my body by putting on a cheerful face. I tried to dig around for something else to say and instead came up with an apology. "Oh, by the way! Sorry about... y'know," I threw casually, not wanting to have to explain in front of the guys– mostly because I wouldn't have known how to explain why I was hiding in the library anyway.

She took my hand and gently pulled me towards the middle of the room where people were dancing ecstatically to the music. "You can make it up to me by dancing with me," she batted her eyelashes and grinned mischievously, not giving me a choice as I was pulled across the room with the bottle of beer still in my hands. I tentatively glanced back at the guys who smirked and cheered, wriggling their eyebrows suggestively at me. Antonia playfully winked as I was dragged away.

We stopped in the middle of where everyone seemed to be bunched together in groups with friends grinding and lovers making out more than actually dancing. The song changed just as Hayley turned to face me and her expression altered to one of hysterical excitement as a well known pop song broke through the speakers. She began singing along as some of her girlfriends happily came up to join us. I took an awkwardly large gulp of beer as she and her friends began wildly jumping up and down, tossing their hair about like crazed animals. After a while I joined in with the jumping since the song did have a good beat, and sung along too; enjoying myself as Antonio showed up beside me and did the same. I put my arm over his shoulder and we jumped in sync with the bottles still in our hands. The chorus came on and the whole room went crazy.

Hayley danced closer to me so I let go of Antonio and let her hands rest on my shoulders as she swayed her hips and pressed her body up against mine. We both danced and my free hand grasped her hip. Her tight black dress clung to her body, revealing every slim curve as she danced and gazed at me provocatively with glossy, pouting lips. Before we knew it the song had changed again and she tilted her head back, shouting an excited "Yes!" as another chart hit came on.

She slipped her arms away from my shoulders and turned around so her back was against my body. She held one hand up to caress my face as her hips continued to swing sensuously, grinding herself against my jeans. I could tell she was enjoying herself as she sang along and let my free hand wonder up and down her body; rubbing her legs and momentarily brushing my fingers daringly close to the spot between her thighs. She reached out to grab the beer bottle out of my other hand, took a long swig as she danced, then turned around so we were face to face again.

Both my free hands eagerly squeeze her butt and she licked her teeth in approval, glancing at my lips before slowly inching her face towards mine. I dipped my head towards her and slowly moved in too, when the sight of a lonely Matthew, standing glumly to one side and watching with an unmistakable hurt in his eyes, caused my insides to twist and wretch with guilt.

I instantly let go of Hayley's butt and quickly turned my face so her lips brushed my cheek instead of my mouth, leaving the remnants of sticky lip-gloss on my skin.

I straightened myself and she looked up at me slightly confused, but I couldn't deny the tiny strain of hurt in her eyes too.

Guilt washed over me and I was stuck on what to do next. My first instinct was to just apologize and excuse myself but as she wrapped her arms around my waist and almost begged, "Don't go!" the real desperation in her eyes was too hard to ignore. I reached back to ease her hands off my body and tried not to look at the heavy look of disappointment in her face.

"I'm sorry!" I tried to shout over the loud music, and managed to unhook myself from her grasp. She was reluctant to let go but allowed me to hold her arms out between us. I attempted to lighten up the awkward situation by grinning down at her and saying: "You really know how to dance!" hoping this would justify my sudden change of heart.

She managed a weak smile and thanked me but the rejection was painfully evident in her pretty blue eyes and made her lose enthusiasm in the way she danced. But then, all too suddenly, something else caught my attention and made my stomach flip in surprise.

'Gangnam style' began playing and between the mix of excited cheers and annoyed groans from people dancing, I watched as Arthur stood to the side speaking privately to Antonio, nodding and thumbing towards the door. He hadn't seen me, but suddenly they were both making their way out and I almost forgot Hayley was still beside me as I let go of her arms and started curiously towards them.

Quickly, I turned around and shouted, "Uh – I'll be back! I just need to..." I motioned with my hands and turned around to carry on walking; leaving Hayley on the dance floor and trying to comfort my guilt with the thought that all her friends were with her.

I squeezed my way through all the dancers getting ready to do 'Gangnam style' and just as the chorus started, the whole room erupted. However, I_ just_ managed to make my way out the door before everyone's wild dancing completely obscured my path.

I headed outside Hayley's dorm and saw a flash of Antonio's heel leaving the building. I quickly passed through the hallway to the exit, passing a few couples making out and ignored the sight of someone with his hand up a girl's skirt. I made it out the building just in time to spot Antonio and Arthur in the dark, making their way towards mine and Matt's building in the freezing winter cold.

I hadn't brought a jacket. Stupid really, but I figured Hayley's dorm was only across campus, and regretted the decision as my arms prickled from the bitter wind lashing against my skin.

They hadn't looked back so I carried on following as they entered mine and Matt's building. I swiftly did the same to get out of the penetrating frost. I waited a moment before taking the first flight of stairs, trying to stay inconspicuous as I stepped cautiously, and listened to the distant familiar voices muttering from across the hallway. When I reached the top I realised with a suspicious sense of realization that they'd made their way into dorm 69.

* * *

**Not gonna lie, I actually feel quite sorry for Hayley...**

**And MATT! Poor guy :'(**

**_Well_, I guess we all make reckless decisions from time to time that end up costing people's feelings. Can't blame him really in his situation. But I think we've all been in some kind of situation similar to either Alfred's side, Matt's side or even Hayley's side to various degrees.**

**It sucks no matter which side you're on.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

I didn't know if I could show my face again after what'd happened last time.

But Antonio? Was he in on Arthur's scheme too? Maybe people were more desperate than I thought. I mean, I knew Antonio was a few years older than me but it never occurred to me that he also knew Arthur. Come to think of it, he _was_ around twenty-two/twenty-three years old, so I guess it made sense for them to know each other.

Still, I'll admit, I hadn't expected him to be a part of this. He was just... too...

_Nice!_ I assumed you had to be a certain character to be into these kinds of things like... I don't know... aggressive or... or sleazy or...

But Antonio? He wasn't any of those things! Well, at least not aggressive anyway.

I took a deep breath and walked towards the door – left open yet again. A twinge of irritation niggled inside me from how careless they seemed to be about all this.

I couldn't have been the only one to find out this way, right?

I peaked around the corner into the room and noticed Antonio speaking with that guy Arthur identified as 'Frog face', though he didn't resemble a frog at all. He was actually quite a good looking man with his extremely well-groomed blonde locks and lightly stubbled chin. I think his name was Francis.

Arthur came up behind them with a camcorder, fiddling with a few buttons with a look of befuddled uncertainty before nodding his head readily at them.

My brows raised in slight surprise when they started making out, and I no longer had to question whether Antonio was involved in this or not.

The French guy groped the Spaniard's ass, fondling with his cheeks and even from this distance I could see their tongues tangling in each other's mouths.

"Hey, Arthur! You're friend's back for more!" Someone shouted, startling me as everyone turned to look at me through the door. Antonio reflexively swung round in the French guy's arms but his features instantaneously fell in shock when he saw me peering through the doorway.

"Ahh_haha_... mi amigo!" He shouted, trying to hide the mortification betraying his voice. "Wha... What are you doing here?" he spluttered nervously.

It was too late to turn back now; they'd have all chased after me if I'd started running anyway! So I gathered my courage and stepped around the corner to make myself visible without looking suspicious.

I felt nervous as everyone's eyes watched me; some I recognised from that evening a few nights ago, others I'd never seen before.

Arthur had turned my way and lowered his camera, staring at me expressionless as I made no move to run away. I caught his eye and he silently motioned for me to come forward with his head.

Everybody went on with what they were doing as I stepped in, trying to find something to do with my hands as I awkwardly made my way across the room to Arthur, noticing a bunch of guys lounging on the couch with one guy on his knees taking turns to suck them off. There was no camera recording them.

I quickly looked away to Arthur who watched me with a lingering ghost of a smile hidden within the contours of his smug bastard face. I stopped in front of him. He was about an inch or two smaller than me so he had to look up slightly, but that didn't stop the penetrating stare evoke a sense of self-consciousness that reminded me how young and naive I was compared to him.

He cocked his head to the side and slowly looked me up and down shrewdly, sucking his bottom lip like he was expecting something, but then he turned towards Antonio and the Francis again and held up the camera once more.

Antonio looked unsure this time as he smiled sheepishly at me but Arthur pushed impatiently, "Come on! We don't have all night!"

I awkwardly put my hands in my pockets as Antonio reluctantly carried on, allowing Francis to slip his hand up his shirt, revealing the smooth tanned skin of Antonio's stomach. Arthur seemed to ignore me standing there, so I glanced around the room to see that guy by the couch sucking some other guy's dick, pushing his head till he was literally balls deep in his mouth.

I was almost impressed.

I hadn't realised both Antonio and Francis had become shirtless, desperately fondling with each other's trousers until they were off too.

We weren't near any beds or couches – those were already occupied. Instead we were near the kitchen and I had to wonder what they were going to do next. I glanced over at Arthur, clearly concentrating on capturing the footage in front of him as they both rubbed the bulges in between each other's legs.

I cleared my throat uncomfortably as I watched Antonio actually begin to make his way down Francis's body, nipping and sucking on his skin until he was on his knees with his face level with the French guy's underwear.

Surprisingly, it was all very quick, and despite them kissing and groping, it didn't feel very intimate either. It all felt kinda false. Maybe it was because Antonio felt uneasy around me after being caught in the act, but as Arthur closed up on Antonio pulling down the French guy's pants, I couldn't help but realise how easy it was just to stand there and watch it all take place.

Sure porn was supposed to be a private thing for when you needed a little 'time to yourself', but watching it live wasn't really as bad as what I thought it'd be. A thought suddenly struck my brain and it gave me a dirty chill down my neck, but the idea of taking Arthur's suggestion of becoming their camera man was actually beginning to sound appealing. Not just because I got to watch people having sex, but because it seemed easier than what I'd originally thought (secretly filling my innards with a dirty sense of excitement that was too familiar when seeing a naked lady in a magazine).

When Antonio began sucking the guy's dick, I was secretly grateful for how calm I felt and was surprised by how I actually didn't find it that disgusting. I guess the sights I'd seen before with Arthur had numbed my senses somewhat.

_I could do this_, the thought resonated at the back of my head, _just film them for however long they want (which probably won't even be that long) and get paid for it. Easy._

Although, this job wasn't exactly something I could put on my résumé...

It was strange just standing there and watching everything happen, because at first it was like I knew what to expect but didn't really reflect on what was going to follow.

However, just as I let complacency get the better of me, Francis and Antonio – now both completely naked – moved against the wall.

My pulse started speeding up a bit and I felt the blood rush to my face as Antonio was forced to stand up against the pale wall with Francis adjusting himself behind him. From where I stood, all I could see was the French guy holding what I assumed to be his dick as his hips slowly pushed against Antonio's ass. A strange hot sense of anticipation flooded throughout my body, and with every gentle thrust of Francis's hips, it released a low groan of pleasure from Antonio that almost made me feel embarrassed.

I didn't know what to do with myself! So I just carried on watching. And only when Arthur and his camcorder got in the way did I realise I was inching my head curiously to try and get a better view. Arthur knelt right behind the French guys legs, filming in between them and allowing me to view the close-up on the little screen on his camcorder.

_Should I move?_ I thought. This was so awkward, I didn't know if I should move or just stand there like an idiot. I sure _felt_ like an idiot.

I blew out awkwardly through puffed out cheeks and looked around aimlessly, surrounded by dudes watching and drinking and daring each other to do _this_ and jeering at each other to do _that _whilst some other guy stood by with a camera. I turned to glance at the guys by the couch, and from this angle I knew that guy had stopped sucking their dicks because he was now bouncing roughly on top someone's lap instead.

A rush excited in my stomach as I looked on curiously. One of them began to pour beer over his head, leaving the rest of them cheering loudly.

I hadn't noticed my mouth was hanging open until Arthur's voice cut in with disbelief, "You're still here?"

I abruptly turned around and caught Arthur's eyes watching me in curious amusement.

My mouth floundered a little and the guilty burn in my cheeks probably gave me away. "Uuh..." I stammered, but the next thing I knew, both Francis and Antonio weren't fucking slowly up against the wall anymore but moving towards Arthur and reaching out to grab him.

For a moment he looked a bit taken aback, but that changed as he suddenly pushed the camera into my hands.

It was so unexpected and I grasped it hesitantly, watching as both Antonio and Francis began hungrily kissing and licking Arthur's neck, whilst groping and rubbing up and down his body.

Another sweet rush excited in my stomach, and for a moment I forgot there was a camera in my hands. Suddenly it occurred to me what Arthur wanted me to do, so I held the camcorder up and focused it on the Brit in the middle, tilting his head to let Francis suck his neck and followed his hand to where it groped and stroked the Spaniard's erection at the same time.

It felt like the whole room was watching me as I stood there and filmed it all take place. The heat wouldn't leave my cheeks and the sugary spiral of excitement curling around the base of my spine began to heighten with every second.

The twitch in my pants confirmed my arousal as they started unzipping then slipping down Arthur's black jeans, revealing the bulge in his grey chequered underpants. They pulled his white Motörhead Tee up over his head and began trailing kisses and sucking the pale, inked skin of his muscled torso like it was a platter that all belonged to them. I took silent note of the old-style pirate ship tattoo across the side of his ribs, and let myself move in closer as they both took each one of Arthur's pink nipples in their mouths; Francis playfully swirled his tongue over the nipple ring, causing Arthur to roll his eyes back in pleasure.

I ignored the tightening in my pants as they moved down even lower until their faces were both in direct line of his slim, toned hips.

Arthur's licentious eyes watched down on them as they began teasing the bulge in his pants by licking and sucking the chequered fabric covering his penis. His chest rose and his hips bucked ever so slightly, till they each took one side of his pants and slowly pulled it down his legs, revealing every delicious inch of pale skin and dark blonde hair once hidden under the fabric.

His dick was barely out before the double act began to lick each side of his length, trailing their mouths from the tip of the head to the underside of his balls.

I had to swallow to moisten my dried up throat and moved the camcorder to Arthur's shamelessly satisfied face. He did what all good porn stars did and stared right down the camera with ravenous eyes alluring you with lips curled in animalistic hunger.

However, for some dubious reason, I couldn't help the strange feeling that Arthur was doing this all for me.

Like there was nobody else in the room...

I raised my eyes from the screen on the camcorder and found Arthur's luminous green gaze watching me intensely, then flutter closed slightly in arousal as his hips bucked from the Spaniard and the Frenchman devouring his cock.

The tightness in my pants begged to be touched as Arthur held my lustrous gaze like a vice, not letting me go no matter how hard I tried. He licked his lips and I subconsciously licked my own as his eyes closed briefly for a second from the carnal pleasure radiating between his legs.

Suddenly, my eyes were drawn to his hand forcefully grabbing the Spaniard's hair and yanking his head back with a growl through gritted teeth, "Turn around."

The sudden harshness sent a spike of nervous thrill down my spine. I watched as Antonio crawled onto his hands and knees whilst Arthur knelt down on one knee behind him, steadying one hand on Antonio's hips as he teased his dick between the Spaniard's smooth tanned cheeks.

Suddenly, as if it'd been rehearsed, Francis tore a condom packet between his teeth and gave it to Arthur, who rolled it on expertly as if he'd done this a million times before. A bottle of lube appeared in Francis's hands that I hadn't even noticed before and realised that there was already a slightly wet sheen between Antonio's ass.

It was a little unnerving how I'd missed this before Francis had fucked him against the wall, but pretty soon Arthur was slicking his dick with the thick, wet liquid and gradually pushing between the Spaniard's ready ass. He held onto Antonio's hips and didn't waste time starting off slow.

After one gentle push, he pumped his hips into a moderately fast pace, making the brunette arch his back and allow the heavy breaths and groans to escape the 'O' of his mouth.

An instinct overtook me, since I knew I shouldn't have just been standing there in one spot, so I let my creativity give me some confidence as I knelt low in front of Antonio's bounding body and moved the camcorder to an angle that allowed the whole underside of his body in the shot. I cleverly adjusted it so his face was at the top of the screen; yet still capturing the movement between his tan brown legs with Arthur's pale inked legs thrusting behind him.

A small sense of satisfaction filled me as the shot fit perfectly on the screen. I let confidence take over again as I closed up on the Spaniard's face, whose languid eyes stared ahead as more moans and groans escaped his open mouth with every hard ram of Arthur's hips.

I moved the camera to Arthur's face, whose bared teeth shone merciless in a carnal grin as he continued to pump in and out ruthlessly like he was giving Antonio his just dessert.

In that fleeting moment I studied him... the piercings, the rough but elegantly old-styled tattoos across his fair white body, the sharp defined muscles, the chaotic blonde hair, the rugged dark skin beneath his gorgeously striking lime green eyes... and then realised in a transfixed state of wonder just how relentlessly beautiful he was.

Odd to think whilst filming him fuck my friend's brains out, yet I couldn't deny the truth. He was undeniably the most attractive man I'd ever met. _Or_ the only man I'd ever been attracted to...

I was willing to admit this to myself, when something happened that I could say with full honesty that I really should have expected...

As Arthur slowed down, Francis knelt right behind him, already lubed up with a condom ready, and pushed himself inside Arthur as the punk was still inside Antonio.

I'd seen three-ways before on women, but _this_ was something new. It never occurred to me that a guy could fuck and be fucked at the same time.

It was... interesting... I'd never really thought about it.

Until now!

Arthur's face contorted into one of pure unadulterated bliss as Francis held his hips and fucked him from behind, with Antonio on the returning end of every thrust.

"You getting this, Jones...?" he groaned as his languid half-mast eyes found me again. The fact that he'd remembered my last name surprised me a little, but I quickly got over that as I moved and focused the camera to capture all three of them fucking instantaneously. An acute twinge excited in my groin as I watched Arthur's ass springing off of Francis's dick, whilst his own hips drove into Antonio's ass in a chain reaction.

I almost couldn't believe I was there filming this right in front of them. I'd jerked off to the memory of that astounding ass more times than I could even remember during these past few months, and now I was here witnessing it in all it's taught, round glory, getting ploughed from behind whilst I filmed it myself through a camcorder.

_I guess some dreams do come true_, I thought cynically then wondered with an avid sense of perverseness what it'd be like if_ I_ was the one fucking him from behind...

This time I didn't shake the guilty thought from my head. I was here filming it with his permission– I could think whatever the fuck I wanted!

An impulsive burst of confidence made unexpected words escape my mouth, "Arthur, don't move. Let the other's move for you," I said, catching the smirk off Arthur and Francis's faces as he did as I said, letting Francis thrust from behind and Antonio back into him from the front.

"My, I guess you were right about your little directeur friend..." Francis spoke breathlessly in Arthur's ear, earning a satisfied grin from the Brit in return.

I raised the camera slightly to get a good angle on the action, moving to the front so I could see the whole sandwich with Antonio bent over in the front, Arthur in the middle, and Francis just over his shoulder. I set the camera to view them all, but _I_ was only watching Arthur.

I loved the way his face contorted in pleasure; the way his open mouth curled upwards over his pearly white teeth in a blissful grin; and the way his eyes rolled back before half shutting, then opening again just to make sure I was still watching him.

Every time our eyes locked, I felt an electric heat inside of me. It trailed all the way up my spine, and down to my fingertips and toes.

It was a foreign feeling, like an intense yearning I'd never felt so hungry for in my entire life, and I didn't know if there was anything I could do to satiate it. My erection was almost painful in my pants, but I was damn sure to take care of it as soon as this was finished.

Although... there was _one_ thing I knew that I wasn't going to get for Christmas this year, and the thought spiralled uncontrollably in my head, driving me jealously insane with every second watching Arthur breath and moan between those two slick, naked bodies.

I wished... wanted – _needed_ to touch him so badly.

* * *

I practically ran to the bathroom in my dorm after it'd all finished, noticing Matthew hadn't come back yet from the party. The hope that he was having a good time was swift and left my mind before I urgently ripped off my pants and got down to what I desperately needed to do.

I don't think my dick had ever felt this good between my own hand before and I definitely didn't last very long since I'd been struggling not to touch myself for a whole half an hour.

The video was only fifteen minutes long, but as Arthur put on his underpants and watched the re-play on the camcorder, I noticed him glance a few times at the stiff bulge in my jeans, but he didn't say anything.

Guys were still sucking and fucking each other in his room with cameras, and there_ I_ was trying not to dive into my pants and jerk myself off.

It felt strange to me. I did this stuff privately, unless I was with a girlfriend who could do it for me at the time, so you could say I felt a little uncomfortable getting it out in front of everyone – especially Arthur.

I knew it was strange despite the fact that I'd just filmed him having a three-way on camera... but still... it was almost like showing your wiener for the first time – all that scrutiny!

I sat on the bath tub, spent and catching my breath when my phone started vibrating in my jeans. They were still around my ankles so I bent down and dug around in my pockets until I found it and quickly brought it to my ear. It was Kiku.

"Hello?"

"Alfred, where are you?" he pled anxiously.

"Uhh... I'm just in my room-"

"Prease, come quick! I can't find Matew... the rast time I saw him he'd downed a shit road of beer and the next thing I knew, he was gone!"

I quickly stood up from the edge of the bathtub and scrambled to pull up my pants with one hand. "Hold on, I'm coming. Where are you?"

"I'm outside Hayrey's dorm room. I aready asked rots of people, they say they have no idea-"

I successfully zipped up and exited the bathroom, "Wait there, I'll be there in a sec!"

I hung up and ran to the door, but just before I opened it I quickly rushed back to grab my bomber jacket over the couch, then ran as fast as I could out the door and down the hallway.

* * *

I couldn't help the gnawing guilt in my stomach as I remembered the hurt in Matt's eyes when Hayley had gone to kiss me.

My conscience resonated with that memory but I tried to shake it off as I ran through the bitter night cold.

If it wasn't going to snow tonight, I bet it would snow tomorrow, I thought absentmindedly as I made my way into Hayley's building and found Kiku standing there waiting with his foot tapping impatiently on the floor.

The worry in his face was obvious.

"Kiku!" I said breathlessly, "Any sign of him?"

"I've rooked everywhere but outside..."

I grabbed his arm and tugged him urgently, "Come on!"

We made our way out into the dreadful icy wind and I was glad we both had our jackets on, though they didn't exactly help much.

"MATTHEW!" I shouted, forgetting that other people were probably trying to get to sleep in the other dormitory buildings. "MAAATHEEW!"

"Matew!" Kiku cried a little quieter, hoping he wouldn't disturb anyone, though it was pointless.

We looked around the whole block and asked anyone crazy enough to be outside if they'd seen a Canadian guy that looked like me.

They all said no and I was beginning to get restless and uneasy, until one girl helpfully pointed in one direction saying that she thought she saw someone with blonde hair and glasses walking that way with a bottle in his hands.

It could have been anyone, but we thanked her and ran towards the direction of another dormitory building.

My dormitory building.

How could I have missed him coming out of there? Unless he was hidden behind the block somewhere, in that case we'd have to go searching some more.

We split up as I went one way and Kiku searched the other, but barely a minute passed before I heard Kiku's voice urgently shouting my name. I darted back the way I came and carried on until I spotted a dark figure huddled on the ground with Kiku waving me down so I could see him in the inky darkness.

I had to sniff and wipe the cold trickle under my nose when I reached Kiku; who knelt one knee on the frost bitten grass and tried to comfort a curled up Matthew, muttering something miserable between his pulled up legs with his arms wrapped round them. He wouldn't let us see his face and he sounded as if he was sobbing.

I knelt down next to Kiku and we looked at each other in concern. I gently placed a hand on Matt's arm, "Hey... Matt..." I urged in a quiet gentle voice, "You okay buddy?"

He began muttering something I couldn't understand, making me and Kiku share another worried look.

"We're going to get you out of the cold, okay? Come on..." Kiku shuffled round to his other side as I moved to lift Matt's arm and wrap it around my shoulder. "On three. One, two... thhrree..." We hauled him up slowly, but he continued to hang his head so we couldn't see his face. It was a little awkward since Kiku was considerably smaller than me, but he was evidently stronger than he looked as he continued to carry Matt without complaint. We made our way back around the building.

Matt's feet dragged lazily across the ground and once we were within a little more light, I could see that his glasses were just about to fall off his face, so I grabbed them quickly and shoved them into my jacket pocket.

Matthew didn't have a jacket on, so I realised guiltily that I'd probably have to go back to Hayley's in the morning to get it, but right now we needed to get him out of the blistering cold and into a warm, safe room inside before he caught some serious shit like pneumonia.

We managed to make it up the stairs and halfway up the hallway, till the door to number 69 abruptly opened, revealing a fully clothed Arthur wearing a long, black pea coat with all its buttons done up and a cigarette tucked behind his ear.

His face instantly fell with alarm when he saw the semi-conscious Matt in our arms.

"My God – is he alright?" he asked, face etched with concern.

I turned to face him, trying to wipe the snot trailing down my numb nose as I replied, "He's fine! He's just..."

"Here, let me help you," he insisted kindly, closing his door and rushing over to lift Matt's lifeless legs.

"Is that really necessary?" I asked, but he replied with a modest shrug.

"I've found myself in one too many situations like this before. Besides, three's better than two..."

I didn't argue with him as we reached our dorm. I gave Arthur the keys to open the door and we carefully lifted Matt through the threshold. We crossed the room till we found his bed and gently laid him across the bed covers, letting out a sigh of relief as we released him. I undid his converse and threw them over by the wall.

"What happened to him?" Arthur questioned, noticing the stench of alcohol on Matt's breath.

"He seemed berry depressed at the party and drank _way_ too much. Then he just... reft without terring anybody..." Kiku answered with concern.

"Oh dear," Arthur sighed with his hands on his hips as he stared down at the unconscious Matthew dribbling from one side of his mouth. "He's going to feel _that_ in the morning, just you wait."

I gnawed on my lip, knowing a big part of this – if not _all_ of it – was to do with me and Hayley at the party. I didn't know how I was going to confront him in the morning, but that was going to have to wait till he woke up.

Which happened sooner than I expected.

Suddenly his chest was heaving as he coughed up sick, shooting his eyes open as he began choking on his own vomit.

"Someone get him a bucket – a bowl... anything!" Arthur cried as he bent to lift Matt up from the bed just as he empty his stomach over his lap – it was better than letting him choke.

I ran to the kitchen to find a bowl and came back as quick as I could, shoving it onto Matt's already soiled lap.

Arthur sat on the bed holding back his hair and rubbing his arm, "Come on mate, that's it, let it all out..." he said, soothing him gently as Matt heaved into the bucket until there was nothing more but painful, dry heaving.

I felt useless just standing there watching him, but there was nothing I could do. The smell was rank and made me cringe; almost making me want to puke myself, but Arthur seemed to have it all under control – like he was used to doing this to people; comforting them like a parent comforts a child.

"Someone get us a glass of water?" He requested patiently, this time letting go of Matt's hair and rubbing his back as I tried to make myself useful by fetching the drink.

Arthur flashed me a thankful smile as I gave it to him and he held it in front of Matthew so he could sip whilst not letting go of the bowl of sick on his lap.

"Are you okay, buddy?" I gently urged, waiting till Matthew stopped drinking.

He swallowed and let out a disgruntled "uugghhh..." before reaching one hand up to rub his head.

Arthur lifted his lips in a small smile and gently patted his back, "He'll be alright, won't you mate?" he said reassuringly as another "uugghhh..." escaped Matt's hoarse throat.

"We might need another bowl," Kiku pointed out as we realised Matt's stomach had filled practically three-quarters of it already.

"I ne-need the bathroom..." Matt muttered, "cuz... c-cuz I'm Canadian..."

Arthur raised his brow and squeezed his lips in amusement, then glanced at me and Kiku before gently lifting Matt from the bed to make his way to the bathroom. His lap was still soiled with sick and some of it dribbled onto the floor, so I knew I'd have to clean that up.

"Canadian coming through," Arthur teased good-naturedly as I quickly ran to empty the stinky sick bowl down the toilet and wash it up in the kitchen.

"Who is that man?" Kiku whispered as I dried off the bowl.

For some reason I felt my cheeks heat up a bit as he mentioned him, recalling in my head what had happened earlier in his dorm before I'd spent a little 'alone time' in the bathroom.

"He's... just Arthur. Neighbour from across the hall."

Kiku nodded his head in acknowledgment, looking over to peer at the Brit as he asked Matthew cautiously with a hidden smile in his voice, "Are you sure you can hold yourself up?"

"I'm fine. I'm Canadian..."

"Okay," Arthur bit his lip, concealing a smile as he closed the bathroom door and moved his eyes curiously towards the huge set of equipment placed on the other side of the room. Kiku and I made our way over to him and he sighed at us sympathetically with a soft smile. "Your Canadian patriot is going to be fine..." he said before glancing back at the five big screens and the other high tech equipment, "That yours?" he probed, visibly intrigued.

"Oh, no that's Matt's," I replied before his eyes found Kiku and he held out his hand.

"Sorry, I didn't introduce myself. I'm Arthur Kirkland," he said and Kiku shook it.

"Nice to meet you, Arthur. My name is Kiku Honda," he replied courteously with a small bow of his head.

Arthur awkwardly bowed his head too with a polite grin on his face, then straightened up and looked at us both before saying, "When he comes out, get him changed into something clean and warm so he stops shaking. Would you like me to stay and help?"

The fact that he'd helped in the first place was unexpected. Nice but... still, unexpected. Besides, the cigarette behind his ear reminded me that he had his own business to take care of before he saw us anyway, so I considered this and assured, "It's cool. We got it covered."

He nodded, but then quickly remembered, "Oh! And make sure he eats in the morning – that'll be a mission after the night _he's_ had," he wriggled his brows, and then politely motioned his head towards the door with an air of finality. "Best be off. It was nice meeting you Kiku." Then his eyes landed on mine, "Nice to see you again, Alfred."

I swallowed as he looked at me with those mysterious orbs of lime green, waiting for him to say more, but he didn't.

"Thank you..." I said appreciatively, still slightly taken aback and not sure what else to say to him after this surprisingly tender behaviour.

He curtly nodded at us before making his way across the room and out the door.

This was a side of Arthur I'd never expected.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

So it didn't snow like I thought it would the next day, but it was still too cold to even think about going outside.

Matt was so reluctant to get up, he buried himself under the covers till all you could see was a huge lump in the middle of the bed. He even had his grandma's old blanket she made for him on top of that, and I wondered how long he'd last under there until he needed to come up for air.

Last night after Matt waddled out the bathroom shortly after Arthur had left, Kiku helped me clean the sick off the floor and change Matt's bed sheets since there was no way we could let him sleep in his own vomit. It wasn't a pleasant job but it had to be done and afterwards I grumbled to Matt's unconscious face that he owed us _big time_.

Either Matt was a lightweight or he drank _way_ too much last night because he barely made it to the bed without falling over, and I could tell the room was probably spinning as he plopped gracelessly onto his clean new sheets and fell right to sleep.

I was in the kitchen covered from head to foot in comfy pyjamas with a warm blue Superman hoodie pouring milk into a bowl of Frosties, till I remembered what Arthur had instructed me to do last night.

"Matt?" I called loudly.

Nothing.

"Matt!" I called even louder, hearing a muffled groan from the lump under Matt's bed sheets. "You want some food, buddy?"

Nothing came again so I stuck my head around the threshold and shouted, "MATT!"

I watched as the lump under the covers moved sluggishly, eventually revealing a dishevelled head of wild blonde hair and tired purple eyes cringing from the light in the kitchen doorway.

"Who is it..." he mumbled, his mouth still under the safety of his quilt.

"You want some breakfast?" I asked.

His eyes began sliding closed again and he didn't answer me, so I grabbed my bowl and made my way over to his bed, bending down to haunch on my feet so my face was level with his. I blew morning breath in his face and his nose crinkled from the unwelcome intrusion.

"Come on, you gotta eat, man," I urged, crunching on my cereal as I watched his face fully emerge from the quilt. He blew out a tired breath and the stench hit me so hard I almost toppled to the floor. "Fuck!" I spluttered, scrambling from the floor whilst covering my nose with one hand. "You smell like you ate dog shit!"

A small smile lightened up his lethargic face, "I _f-feel _like dog shit," he said as I slumped onto my own bed and ate my cereal from there.

"Dude, that's rough. You want some food? I'll even make you pancakes if you want?"

He turned his head and looked at me with a hopeful smile, "Y-you'd do that for m-me?"

"Sure," I said between chews, "anything to get away from the stench of death in your mouth." He chuckled lightly then turned his head to the ceiling and closed his eyes again in exhaustion.

My bowl was practically finished so I made my way into the kitchen and set it aside so I could get out a pan and all the ingredients for Matt's pancakes. I refilled my bowl with Frosties and milk and munched on them as I prepped and cooked the pancakes.

I don't even know how I did it, but the pancakes came out really thick so I piled four on Matt's plate and even managed to make another four for me – how clever was that?

Mom always said breakfast was the most important meal of the day! I tipped the last remnants of my cereal bowl into my mouth and placed it in the sink, wiping the milk off my chin. Then I took both plates stacked with thick, fluffy pancakes and placed them on the small round table in our room. Afterwards I went to fetch some of that Canadian maple syrup Matt had actually brought from home in his suitcase and found him pulling out one of the chairs to sit down.

I sat down, flicked open the bottle and squeezed it all over my pancakes till I was fully satisfied they were coated enough (in other words, literally drowning in the stuff). I passed it to Matt only to find him staring down at his stack of pancakes, green in the face.

"I thi-I think I'm gonna be sick..."

I stared at him incredulously. "C'mon there not _that_ bad–" but he was already out of his chair and running to the bathroom.

I heard him heaving and I cringed, so I got up from the chair and walked over to the bathroom. I stuck my head round the door to see him bent over the toilet.

"You okay in there?" I asked warily.

He spat in the toilet bowl and stood up straight, "I'm fine." With one final sigh he made his way towards the door, "C'mon, let's eat... or at least _try_..."

Well, _I_ didn't have trouble shovelling fluffy, maple-covered goodness down my throat but Matt took his time, looking a bit unwell as he forced himself to swallow.

I knew exactly how he felt, it's not like I'd forgotten my first hangover when I was fifteen at a friend's house party. I'd been drunk before, I just hadn't gotten as trashed as I did that night. Puked all morning and didn't even want to eat, which was crazy for someone like me. Though, my pissed off parents practically forced buttered toast down my throat as they ridiculed disappointedly, _"That's what you get for being so irresponsible!", "It's no one's fault but your own!", "We raised you better than this!"_

Pfft, as if! I knew they went to cocktail parties and fancy dues and got shit-faced all the time. I knew they'd never stay at their friend's houses unless they had good reason to (like being too wasted to drive home).

So I reassured Matt, "I know it's hard, but you gotta eat. I promise you'll feel better!"

He shoved a mini piece of pancake into his mouth and slouched against the chair, "I know. M-m f-first hangover was a lot like this whe-when I turned seventeen except... s-say, Al? Who was that guy from l-la-last night?"

Something in my belly jumped. "Hm?" I questioned, shovelling part of two pancakes at once in my mouth.

"He had, like, a black coat and he helped me to the bathroom... he kept calling me 'mate'... Was he Australian or something?" He asked, waiting for me to reply as he pondered through his hazy mind.

I swallowed.

"Oh! You mean_ that_ guy?" I started, doing that annoying thing where you feel like they're on to you before they even know that there was anything wrong to begin with.

Not that there was...

"Uh... yeah, that was... that was just Arthur," I said, hoping to quickly diffuse the situation before there even was one to begin with.

Matt just nodded, seemingly untroubled with an oblivious "Huh" in acknowledgment.

I studied him warily for a moment as he went back to prodding a piece of pancake with his fork. Was his mind really that fuzzy to forget the infamous Arthur who filmed pornography in his room across the hall? Of all the things to forget! It's not like you meet a porn star everyday who offers to help hold back your hair as you literally puke your guts up.

However, besides my befuddlement, I was secretly glad he couldn't remember. It felt embarrassing enough to know that I was involved in filming a gay porn movie last night with him – before finding Matt practically passed out in the freezing cold by the side of the building.

And that was another thing...

I knew Matt drove himself to drink because of how upset he was about me and Hayley.

Guilt curdled inside my belly again as I remembered this; knowing I'd hurt my good friend's feelings and also because I left Hayley standing in the middle of the dance floor at her own party.

God, I'm such a dickward.

At least I felt bad. I'd have to find a way to apologise to Matthew somehow, but it didn't feel right to bring it up right now whilst we were pleasantly eating breakfast and he was trying to deal with his hangover.

I'd have to apologize to Hayley too. I made a small promise to myself to say sorry when I went over to fetch Matt's jacket but... it was too cold outside so... perhaps I should do it tomorrow...

"So, got any plans for Christmas? Seeing your parents?" Matthew asked, interrupting my train of thought.

I blinked, "Uh, yeah. I think so..." My parents hadn't actually called to tell me the plans yet even though I only had one week of term left. I assumed it'd be just the usual family dinner. Mom would attempt to help the cook, a timid Lithuanian fellow, to prepare the vegetables and dad would be in his office dealing with files and huge lumps of paper work. Then I'd be left sitting in my room or watching TV as I waited for family guests to arrive and exchange presents and ask me, "How're the movies going?" whilst feeling the tense grimaces from my silent parents hovering like annoying, unwanted helicopters behind my back.

"What about you?" I asked, trying to block the memories from my head so I didn't end up getting randomly pissed off out of the blue.

Matt settled down his fork again, "Yeah. I'm catching the train on Friday after las-st period. Ca-can't wait to see them," he smiled fondly down at his plate, reminiscing happy family memories I bet.

Lucky for him. I loved my parents but recently they'd been getting so irritating I found myself trying to be anywhere but the same room as them.

I just... couldn't talk to them – which was driving me insane! Mostly because I could never speak of my ambitions without them getting all sceptical and disapproving on everything I say. Talk about de-motivation!

I didn't get what was so wrong with wanting to be part of the film industry? My voice was practically non-existent now whenever I went to family dinners and parties. I just didn't bother bringing up my ambitions with them anymore. My parents didn't want to know so the rest of my family just stayed quiet and tried to find other topics to gossip and talk over to fill in the tense atmosphere.

Whatever. I could do this all myself anyway.

But, I'll admit, sometimes their reluctance to listen makes me feel pretty pathetic and worthless sometimes. Like, I'll never amount to anything, y'know? That's probably just me being all sensitive, but like I said: none of my family wants to know, so I don't bother telling them anymore.

There wasn't really anyone to fall back on for support; even just to tell how I'm doing, despite my family being so big.

I felt pretty alone to be honest.

* * *

Me and Matthew stayed inside all day – we both figured it was way too cold to go outside. Though, Matt said where he lived it got colder than this and by now the snow would have been over a meter deep.

Wouldn't want to live there! Give me warm sunshine and a pool (even a paddling pool) and I'm the happiest guy on earth.

We mainly chilled on the Xbox; switching from game to game when we got bored and eventually I migrated to my laptop since the essay due Monday was starting to niggle at the back of my brain and make me feel bad.

I'd stayed in pyjamas all day, including my blue Superman hoodie, so the day was pretty relaxed for the most part.

On my bed, I logged in and got up the partly-done essay I'd started earlier that week. My brain instantly groaned in boredom.

I kinda skim-read it to convince myself I was going to carry on and finish it but I knew deep down that this was going to be a totally unproductive day. So, like automatic, I went onto tumblr instead and looked through the dash, scrolling through lots of pictures and funny GIFS and the occasional porn on the way down. But then an idea struck me, causing a curiously naughty sensation deep down as I opened another tab and typed into Google: _Dorm 69._

I warily glanced over my laptop to Matthew messing around on his tablet and huge computer thingy, practising his animation. Then looked back down to the laptop screen, angling it slightly to ensure it was hidden completely from his view.

It was actually the first link and looked like one of those real professional websites, so, hesitantly; I clicked on it, feeling a rising anticipation heating the bottom of my stomach.

Stupid laptop decided to take its time, making me cautiously aware of Matt, even though I knew he was too busy with his animating to take any notice of me. Plus he was facing away – but that didn't stop the anxiousness in my gut.

I wish I could say I wasn't surprised, but when the bold, edgy, black heading of DORM 69 appeared on the screen with multiple pictures of 'hot' guys fucking and being fucked, something dropped inside me and rose with an intense surprise that caused a quick, deep, electric pulsation in the pit of my groin, sending hot tingles all throughout my body and up to my face.

On two of the pictures I spotted Arthur, one of him fucking some dude with red hair that I'd never seen before against a couch, and another one of him giving some other guy a blow job. These pictures made the heat increase in my stomach. I scrolled down to look at more of them on screen, then spotted a link saying 'Videos' and clicked on it. Filthy anticipation grew even more so in my stomach.

My face flushed when I saw the newest video posted at the top of the screen; a frozen shot of Antonio panting on his knees with Arthur ramming hard behind him and Francis just over his shoulder with a look of hot enjoyment on his face.

I'd filmed this last night and it was already on the site...

Did Arthur manage this site and upload all the videos by himself? Somehow I found that hard to believe since he didn't look the type to handle technology well. Dunno why, I just got that vibe off him. I could imagine him struggling to handle an iPhone like a clueless old man for the first time.

I scrolled through the videos, cautiously checking on Matt every few seconds, and thinking to myself how complacent I'd really gotten. Some of these images unsettled me more than what I thought they would, and even though they were just of regular college dudes having sex, I still wasn't used to seeing so many naked cocks and ball sacks sharing the same space and seeing shots of guys sticking their asses out ready to get fucked.

It wasn't something I was used to seeing, let alone typing it up on screen.

A moment of apprehension hit me with a stab of uneasiness when I realised I was involved in this now. I'd filmed this porn video so I was just as much a part of this as everyone else (though, maybe not as much as the guys actually on screen).

A curiously intense urge made me want to press the play button, but I knew my earphones were on the other side of the room and I couldn't risk Matt catching me, even though he was clearly too engrossed in his own little project.

But this film was a product of my work after all... Sure I'd already seen it before I left Arthur's that night, but still. I'd put effort into this, and the burning desire to watch it again overtook my body as I clicked on another Google tab, faced the laptop away and fetched my earphones from across the room.

When I sat back down and plugged them into the laptop and my ears, I made sure the volume was down as low as possible so the sound wouldn't echo out of the earphones, and pressed play with an excitement surging through my gut.

When it started, I remembered every little bit; the kissing, the groping, the slipping off of clothes – even the part where Arthur said, "You're still here?" to me was on there. Even though it didn't show my face, it still made my stomach jump a little unexpectedly.

I watched closely, still looking suspiciously over towards Matt every few seconds, and skipped to the bit where Arthur was getting felt up and sucked on by the Frenchman and Spaniard. My gut twisted deliciously when they started taking off his shirt and pulling down his pants, revealing every sculpted bit of torso, every inked and untouched piece of pale flesh on his body, especially when they teased his cock by sucking on the bulging grey fabric of his underwear.

I self-consciously looked down and pulled the bottom of my hoodie over the semi that was beginning to form, casually glancing over at Matt another time.

I knew this was me behind the camera, but I was too transfixed on watching Arthur getting teased and pulling sensuous faces every time they did something pleasing to his dick, to really care.

All I saw was Arthur. The other two I barely noticed as I watched every move of Arthur's body, every face he made, every noise he growled, and with every passing second I knew my pyjamas were starting to get tighter and tighter around the crotch, so I'd have to sort that out before Matt turned around and saw a bulge protruding in my pants.

I turned up the volume _just _a smidge so I could hear more of his groans, but despite it being freezing outside, my body felt so hot my cheeks were on fire.

Matt turned around in his chair and my insides jumped so suddenly it jerked my body into abruptly closing the porn tab, bringing me back to the first (safer) tab on Google.

Embarrassment reverberated throughout my whole body and my face flushed so hard I had to make out I was doing something else with my hands (I didn't know what!) just to seem like I wasn't doing anything suspicious like watching gay porn on the internet.

He hadn't seemed to notice. "Hey Al, d-do you th-think this i-is okay?" he asked, showing a short little clip of the animation he'd been working on all morning.

I tried to look casual as I replied, "Uh-yeah! Awesome man," with an assured nod of the head, swallowing the nervous lump down my throat.

He smiled in relief, "Thanks!" and turned back around to work on it some more.

I sighed quietly in profound relief, rubbing my eyes under my glasses and shaking the silly embarrassment from my head.

For a moment I couldn't believe I'd actually filmed a porno.

Sure I'd be getting paid for it, but it's not exactly what I could put on my résumé when finding a_ real _job later in life.

* * *

A girl with ebony skin and wavy dark hair opened the door to Dorm 17 and smiled politely when she saw me.

"Is Haley in?"

Something seemed to twinkle in her eye, "Oh! I'll go get her – just a sec..." she said before quickly turning around and running inside.

There were loud whispers and excited giggles resounding through the partly open door before Hayley looked as if she was being pushed towards the threshold, visibly unimpressed by my presence. "What do you want?" she said impatiently, confirming my suspicions.

I cleared my throat, trying not to look too guilty. "Uh, did Matt leave his jacket here last night?"

Her face seemed to fall somewhat from disappointment, like she was expecting something else. "Oh... How should I know?" She replied sharply, her face stoic with displeasure.

"Well..." Again, I tried to remain unruffled by the blatant attitude she was giving me. "I just thought that... since he left without his jacket, I assumed it would still be here..."

"You mean the way you left me at my own party last night?"

"Wha-" the words stopped in my throat as I hesitated for a moment. Her piercing blue stare left me feeling really awkward, especially since I knew her friends were listening to every word we said behind the door.

"Why didn't you come back?" She pushed cheerlessly, wearing the same dejected expression she held last night.

My brain scrambled quickly in desperation, my ears burning as I tried to look into her eyes and seem unperturbed by not only her melancholy face, but also the vision in my head of exactly _what_ I'd been up to after leaving the party.

"I was busy."

Her face turned to one of snide doubt as she challenged, "With what?"

The excuse left me before I even took a chance to consider what to say: "You know that essay due Monday – had to... well, I remembered that I needed to do it and it was really, uh... it was – I should have been in my room... doing it, you know – like, doing the essay since it's due tomorrow and all..."

She guffawed, "You're so full of shit, Alfred."

Damn, I thought that was legit? "But it's true!"

" Yeah. Sure." She replied, clear mistrust on her face, "Why do guys always do that!?"

"Do what?" Now I was confused.

"You know – lead girls on and then just... leave!"

"When did I lead you on? _You_ danced with _me_!"

"Yeah, but you danced back!"

"What else was I supposed to do? Say no and embarrass you in front of my friends at your own party?"

She paused for a second and pulled her lips tightly together. "You did embarrass me, Alfred. I thought..." She exhaled with slight discomfort, "I thought we were really hitting it off, and then you just turned away and never came back, even though you said you would..." Her voice faltered slightly at the end and I could see her face turning red as she crooked her chin and blinked away the welling in her eyes. She took a deep breath, "I appreciate you dancing with me instead of saying no in front of your friends. But you didn't have to go as far as making me think you actually _liked_ me..." she sniffed and swallowed the lump in her throat, but then she turned and accused bitterly, "or do you do that with _all_ the girl?"

Okay, it was bad enough that I'd obviously made her feel like shit, and I felt terrible about it – I really did! But it was just a _'thing'_ (that ended up not even being a _'thing'_) at a party. Besides! How would she – or anyone – understand the reasons for why I left so abruptly? They'd all think I was... that I was...g-

"I'm really sorry," I said, but she didn't reply. A long and awkward silence ensued and I wasn't sure what to do with myself as I fidgeted with my hands in my pockets.

"So do you... have Matt's jacket or...?" My hesitant voice portrayed way less concern than she probably wanted. I could feel the scornful frustration from Haley and her friend's hiding behind the door.

She let out one of her famous, "ugh,"s and turned around, coming back just seconds later before shoving the jacket carelessly at my chest.

One last glance at her and I muttered a, "Thanks."

She replied dutifully with a heavy slam from the door.

* * *

Well that went terrific.

It was 2:58am by the time I'd finally finished that stupid essay. My eyes burned from exhaustion and I woke up with my eye lids stuck together like glue. Kaiden the purple-haired guy threw a pen at me from across the lecture hall behind our teacher's back, but I barely lifted my heavy head off my hand to take notice, let alone throw it back at his stupid face.

That long essay really took it out of me. I didn't butt into lectures as much as usual which probably suited the professors just fine. Kiku actually did most of the talking today which was kinda nice 'cause he didn't usually lead or carry out conversations. He normally just agreed with everything I said (which wasn't exactly a bad thing either).

The day dragged. I was given even more work to do over the Christmas holidays which could really suck on my jingle bells right now, but when the day finally ended Professor Clark took me to one side after everyone had left the room.

"I almost missed your interruptions today, Alfred. Are you doing okay? I hope the work hasn't been stressing you out_ too_ much... You're last essay was really good. A few grammar mistakes and some of your sentences needed rewording but overall you're still the top of my class."

I wasn't expecting that last comment. It filled me with an awesome sense of achievement and I couldn't help but brighten up a smile, "Thanks Professor. I've never been a teacher's pet before."

She laughed.

The hallway was practically empty as I dragged my languorous feet down the furnished, wooden floors, feeling a little more relaxed and upbeat thanks to Professor Clark's compliment. But just as I passed the half open door to the music department, a sudden loud burst of guitars followed by a woman's brutally powerful high voice made me literally jump out of my socks.

I stopped in my tracks and listened to the onslaught of rock music blaring through the wide open gap in the door. I peeked in and watched as an attractive girl with long brown hair sung her heart out through a microphone.

Behind her was a guy with pale hair on the drums who oddly enough wore a thick purple scarf around his neck despite being indoors. On the girl's left there was a Chinese man with a pony tail, strumming a cherry-red bass with both arms heavily tattooed with dragons and Chinese scripture. And finally on her other side, my insides meted like butter as I watched Arthur jamming on an electric black guitar, biting down on his bottom lip as he played and stomped his boots to the beat.

The chorus kicked in and his spiked blond hair rocked back and forth to the tempo as the girl sung:

_"I miss the bad things_

_The way you hate me_

_I miss the screaming_

_The way that you blame me!"_

I hadn't heard the song before so I assumed it was an original. It was good. Really good, but then suddenly:

_"I like the kick in the face... _

_(And the things you do to me!)_

_I love the way that it HU_UURTS!"

Shit. I hope _she_ didn't write this.

Her voice was _incredible_, especially as it rose higher and hit those impossibly high notes with a ferocity that gave your skin goose pimples.

_"I don't miss you _

_I miss the misery!"_

The song was strange, masochistic and dark, and yet I couldn't stray my attention from Arthur rocking out and swaying his body to the music. He had a way of moving that made my eyes fix on him like a magnet. He had on those red tartan pants and a white button-up tucked into them. His sleeves were rolled up so I could see his tattoos and arm muscles in action as he strummed with passionate fervour.

Sex appeal oozed from every inch of his being and I didn't realise my jaw was hanging open until my mouth went all dry.

From across the room by an old classic piano, a sensible looking man with dark hair, glasses and a stray curly flick on his head similar to mine sat watching the band, vaguely rocking his head back and forth to the music. He looked around the same age as Arthur, probably older thanks to the rigorous way he sat rod-straight with one leg over the other and arms crossed around his chest. His face looked serious until his eyes spotted me from the door. The mould broke slightly as he smiled somewhat in surprise, motioning his head kindly at me to come in.

As I emerged from the doorway and made myself visible, I casually leaned against the wall by the door and noticed Arthur startle slightly as his eyes flashed towards me. He quickly looked away and continued playing but it made my lips curl in amusement as he tried to seem unaware if me. He pulled his lips together in concentration, also indicated by the crease between his thick eyebrows, but I could tell he was feeling slightly awkward as I watched him, so I made a cruel point to just carry on staring at him until he looked up again.

When he did, there was a wide, goofy grin on my face, but his withering eye roll didn't stop the smile stretching across his pink tinted cheeks.

After a few more masochistic lines about rough sex, late nights and kicks in the face, the music stopped and before anyone could say anything I was already clapping and 'WHOOP!-ing' with genuine enthusiasm from the doorway, forcing everyone's gaze onto me. They seemed flattered by the unexpected reaction and the singer smiled, bowing to let her hair flow around her face then straightened up again.

"Ladies, Gents, this is my –" Arthur paused and looked at me for a second as if considering what to say; then he finished, "_friend_, Alfred."

A mix of nods and polite 'heys' and 'hello' came my way as I continued to show my appreciation by smiling and saying, "You guys were amazing! And your _voice!" _

The attractive brunette blushed, "Thank you, you're so kind!" she said.

Arthur walked a little way forward with his guitar still hanging across his torso. "Surprised to see you here," he noted, casually resting a hand on the body of his guitar.

"Well, you should learn to close your door," I smirked.

"I would if I'd known you were constantly sneaking up on me."

Our chuckles died down and the only thing filling the awkward silence afterwards was the noise and clatter from equipment being cleared away. I scratched my neck.

"You wouldn't mind coming round after..." Arthur suggested with a motion of his thump.

I raised my brows, "What, you want me to..." I gestured my hands discreetly like holding a camera, but he shook his head.

"No! Just for a... y'know, a cuppa tea or something..." he looked everywhere but me and it struck me to realise how difficult he was actually finding this, "or a – a chat. You know... if you wanted..."

I'll admit I was a little surprised.

"Sure," I replied with a modest shrug, "Will there be... anyone else?" I asked with caution, remembering the last few times I'd visited his room. I don't think I'd ever seen his room _without _those people.

"Oh, no, no, I'm the only – well, I live by myself, so..." he didn't seem bothered about the idea of having a dorm all to himself yet smiled gingerly when he finally met my eyes with a casual shrug.

"Sure," I said again, not really knowing what else to say. But then I remembered something I'd been meaning to do since that night after Hayley's party. "Uh – would you mind giving me a few minutes though? I promised Matt I'd... help him with something..."

He smiled and nodded in understanding.

"I won't be long, I promise! It's just a... thing," I assured as I motioned towards the door.

"Of course," he replied, "Take your time. I'll see you later."

"Sure thing... uh – see you later!" I lingered there for a moment before turning around, considering whether to say anything else but decided against it and walked back out into the hallway.

* * *

Excitement rushed inside me as I paced up towards the dormitory buildings. Forgetting how tired I was earlier, instead I allowed my mind the small guilty pleasure of picturing Arthur biting down on his bottom lip as he stomped his boots and strummed his guitar with so much devotion, it looked as if he was mentally making love to the music.

When I reached my room and opened the door, Matt was perched on his bed, propped against some pillows and drawing in an old sketchbook that'd almost run out of paper.

"Let's see!" I insisted as I threw my bag to the floor and lunged onto his bed, making him stop drawing as the bed shook. He turned the sketchbook so I could see but I grabbed it instead and studied the recent half drawing of a thick-set man in fantasy battle armour like in one of his computer games. I flicked through the pages and saw a lot of the same or similar characters along with other creations that I assumed to be part of a world he must be thinking about inside his head.

It gave me an idea.

"These are awesome! Is there, like, a story to go with 'em or something?" I urged, considering the similar theme in all the drawings.

He thought for a moment and shrugged, "Nah, not really."

"Who's he?" I pointed to the most recent drawing only half finished.

"Just someone I ma-made up," he alluded, watching me study the drawing. "Why, what's with the s-sudden-sudden interest?"

In my head I kept telling myself to just do it – _apologize for the other night!_ But it was harder trying to bring up the subject than I thought._ 'Helping Matt with something' _was just the excuse I made to force me into finally doing it, since I ignored the opportunity yesterday...

"We should make a story out of this. Like, create a world and figure out who's who and make a tale that's so awesome it'll become famous and go down in history as one of the most awesome stories ever written – then make a movie out of it!"

He let out a short bashful laugh and looked at me like I was crazy but his eyes portrayed a small hint almost liking the idea. "That's..."

"Come on! It'll be fun!"

I gave back the sketchbook and he stared at the current drawing, pondering the thought of making something out of his characters. "Okay," he finally said, still slightly unsure but flattered that I appreciated his art enough to want to make something out of it. With me there's no going back once you've agreed!

_Now tell him you're sorry!_ My brain urged after successfully brightening Matt's mood.

I started cautiously, "Urh. Hey, Matt...?"

"Hmm?" He looked up from his drawing, delight swimming through his violet eyes like an aquarium of ideas.

"I just... you know the other night where me and Hayley..."

His face fell slightly, losing all its liveliness from just a few seconds ago. I watched his throat swallow, "Yeah?" His voice came out quiet.

It was really awkward trying not to dampen his mood too much, so in hopes of lifting them again, I told the truth. "We never – I had no intention of... I mean – I never meant to upset you," I floundered, trying to defend myself and his feelings._ "She_ danced with _me_..." This was probably not the right thing to say because he dropped his gaze downheartedly to the half finished drawing and said nothing.

I bit my lip and mentally slapped myself as he just stared down and continued silently. I placed a firm hand on his shoulder and stated, "I'm really sorry, ok? I mean, who need's women?" Matt still didn't look up from the paper. "Come on, who needs them? It can be just you and me! Lone rangers, eating pizza and playing video games... we don't need women to make us happy." A small smile crept onto his lips and he finally raised his head and looked me in the eye. "I'm really, r_eally _sorry," I finished, "She wasn't good enough for you anyway, bro."

His eyes wondered down again and his lips screwed to the side, considering what I'd just said. Then he finally spoke, "Ap-po-pology accepted."

I grinned gratefully and squeezed his shoulder.

"Oh! By the way, I'm seeing Arthur for a little while. Shouldn't be too long."

He smiled, "Sure," and I made my way over to the door. But suddenly an unexpected outburst came from across the room. "WAIT. Y-you mean Arthur as in... th-th_-the_ Arthur?"

I looked across to him, "The one who held your hair back whilst you vomited all over yourself?"

He was quick to counter, "The one who films pornography in his room and ma-ma-made those guys chase and p-pin you to a bed!"

"He didn't_ make_ them chase me –"

"Still! Are you sure that's a wise... a-a wise decision?"

I shrugged noncommittally, "Nobody's gonna be there!"

"Exactly."

I held my hands out in defence. "Look, I can handle myself. He seems... harmless."

"Hav-have you_ looked_ at him, Alfred? He looks like he trips over old ladies for fun!"

I rolled my eyes, "I'll be back later."

* * *

**Thank you again for reading :) I apologize for it taking some time – I've got so much work to do at the moment!**

**And as a side note: the whole thing going on between Alfred, Matt and Hayley is by no means my way of being sexist or blaming one or the other. I'm not intentionally trying to imply some kind of 'battle of the sexes' because all it is is one person having a completely different view point of the situation than the other. Not necessarily because one's a man and the other's a women, but because we all make mountains out of mole hills when some things don't go our way – especially when embarrassment leads to our romantic feelings getting hurt.**

**So I hope that cleared some things up...?**

**All characters belong to Hidekaz Himaruya apart from Hayley and Kaiden the purple-haired guy.**

**The song Arthur and his band were playing belongs to: Halestorm**

**And the song the woman was singing (if you guessed it, it was Elizabeta [Hungary]) was: **

**Halestorm – I Miss the Misery**

** watch?v=C4XUkKlvsts**

**Go have a listen!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Arthur opened the door and smiled expectantly. "I was beginning to think you weren't coming," he teased, allowing me to step in and close the door.

I looked around the small empty room with its vacant beds, apart from the one in the corner near a window made up neatly with a green tartan blanket folder over the top. The walls were pale and bare – he obviously didn't bother putting much effort into making the dorm more home-like, and there were stacks and stacks of books on every available surface top from the coffee table to the small dining table, and even a few on other beds.

"Tea?" his voice hollered from the kitchen.

"You have any coffee?"

"It's instant,"

"What kind?"

"The cheap, horrible stuff..."

"That'll do!" I replied and made my way over to the couch that had once been the place where I'd watched everyone getting sucked off.

Arthur came in as I heard a low grumble from the kitchen. "Kettle's just boiling," he said and sat down a fair distance beside me. "Must be strange being in here now that it's empty..."

I nodded with a definite, "Yeah."

We didn't say anything after that.

I looked around the room in the awkward silence and noticed the stacks of CDs over by the TV. I pointed towards them and asked, "Mind if I look?" and he motioned encouragingly as if glad to make some form of conversation.

"Go ahead."

The quietness was interrupted by me shuffling over and sitting down on the carpet to view the CDs. Meanwhile Arthur had already made his way back to the kitchen to make our drinks as I searched through his music, noticing there was no iPod dock, just a small, old black stereo.

_The Sex Pistols, Papa Roach, Motörhead, Muse, Evanescence, Black Sabbath, Green Day, AC/DC, Guns N' Roses, Rage Against the Machine, The Rolling Stones, Franz Ferdinand, Red Hot Chilli Peppers, Gorillaz_... I laughed – he even had _Eminem!_

I heard the heavy footfalls of his boots as he brought out our mugs of tea and coffee, steam rising from the freshly poured liquid. He settled mine on what space he could make on the coffee table between all his books and took his own cup before settling back down on the couch.

"See any you like?"

I glanced through the back of the Red Hot Chilli Peppers album and held it up for him to see, "Haven't heard these guys in _years_!"

He took a steady sip. "Put it in if you like," he offered and I thought, why not?

All of a sudden though, before I even took out the CD, a deafeningly high alarm pierced through my eardrums and it wasn't long until I realised the burning smell wafting through the kitchen.

Arthur yelled in panic, "SHIT!" as he hurriedly set down his teacup and scrambled as fast as he could into the kitchen. I closed the CD case and followed him to where the alarm was going off frantically as he opened the oven and let out a raging fog of burning black smoke.

_"AH – fuck! Shit! Bollocks!"_ he spluttered through the billow of smoke. He grabbed a tea towel and hurriedly pulled out a tray of what looked like burning lumps of coal, then set it down on top of the stove. Afterwards he tried desperately to waft the smoke away from the fire alarm and insisted between coughs, "Quick, Alfred, open a window!"

I manoeuvred around him towards the window over the sink and opened it nice and wide, letting all the thick black smoke suck out from the kitchen into the cool winter air.

After a while the fog cleared and the horribly high alarm finally died down. I turned around to see Arthur looking over his tray of coals with a look of annoyed disappointment on his face.

He blew out a heavy sigh of frustration through puffed out cheeks. "Well this could have turned out better," he mumbled as I moved to his side to take a look.

"What are they?" I asked, seeing the remains of what I could _not_ identify as once being food.

"Scones," he remarked bitterly, throwing his tea towel on the counter.

My nose crinkled at the mere thought of actually eating them, "You sure?"

"Of course I'm sure! I'd recognise my own cooking!" he boasted, making me wonder if he was actually aware that these did not look safely edible.

My nose and mouth crinkled awkwardly. "Do _all _your recipes end up like this?" I asked sceptically, still trying to identify these 'scones'.

He hesitated to answer, "Well – sometimes they... well, mostly... yes," he finally admitted, looking at me gingerly. "At times, Francis dines with me... _and_ does the cooking."

I could see why. "Shame he didn't come today..."

He crossed his arms and sunk his neck into his shoulders, glaring at me embarrassedly. Suddenly a knock sounded on the door. "Who the hell could that be?"

Waving his hand around to whip away some of the lingering smoke, he jogged to the door and opened it, and as if right on cue, a flamboyant French man with groomed blond locks and a styled stubbly chin came in through the door.

"My food senses were tingling. I had to come and rescue whatever you had been attempting to cook..."

"Looks like you're too late," I mumbled from the kitchen, motioning towards the black coals on the tray.

He glanced at me in recognition and smiled, walking up to shake my hand. "Oooh, Bonjour Arthur's little directeur friend... alzough I zink _he_ is ze one who is ze littlest here –"

"Are you done, frog?" Arthur questioned impatiently from behind.

"Mon dieu, Arthur – you were_ not _trying to make zos _dreadful_ scones again, were you?" Francis said; his nose scrunched up unpleasantly as he looked over the burnt coals lying dismally in the oven tray.

"As a matter of fact, I was," Arthur huffed proudly, "and they would have turned out fine, I just... forgot they were in there, that's all!"

Francis tut-tutted in disbelief, "Are you kidding? A rat's arse tastes better zan zis shit!"

"You would know, wouldn't you?" Arthur scowled, like a defensive child that'd just had his toys taken away, "Take that back!"

"No."

"Wanker."

"At least I'm a wanker who can cook!"

"Should I go...?" I butted in, feeling a tad like I was caught in a crossfire between one of my mom and dad's petty arguments over nothing.

"No!"

"No!" They both said in unison, rooting me awkwardly to the spot.

"Arthur, don't be so rude to your guest."

"I wasn't being rude!"

"You were going to serve him _zis!"_

"There's nothing wrong with my cooking! ...Usually..."

Francis peered over the scones as if to make a point. "I zink the cooking speaks for its self."

Arthur grumbled in irritation and I wasn't sure whether to laugh at these two or just carry on watching them argue the like an old married couple that'd been together too long.

"You sure you don't want me to go?" I said, "I can go if that's –"

Arthur cut in before I could finish, "Actually, Francis was just about to leave," he said forcefully, making Francis furrow his thin eyebrows in surprise, obviously unaware of this until now.

"Fine," he concluded proudly, "You don't want me to 'elp..."

"No, we don't." Arthur finished.

Francis turned to me and asked worriedly, "Alfred? Since you're ze one who has to eat zis diabolical –"

"FROG!"

Like a stubborn teenager getting scolded by his mother, Francis lifted his head and turned around, whipping his hair gracefully behind him with nothing but an obstinate "Hmp" as he walked the short distance to the door.

"Don't poison him while I'm gone," he jibed, opening and shutting the door quickly before Arthur could say anything else.

Arthur exhaled an angry huff of relief.

"We don't really have to eat this... do we?" I questioned, suddenly worried for my safety.

He sighed, closing his eyes wearily in defeat.

* * *

"You sure you don't want anything else to eat? I can whip up some –"

"No, no, really! This coffee's just fine..." I assured politely, trying not to seem too desperate as we lounged back on the sofa again.

The smell of burnt scones still lingered in the air. Arthur's tea cup was already half empty when he asked, "You still want to play that CD?"

I glanced over and remembered, nodding, "Sure," and moved over towards the old stereo again.

The first song came on and I adjusted the volume so it wasn't too loud but loud enough to fill any awkward silences we might have again. Then I looked at him, rocked my head and grinned in recognition, "I love this song!"

His foot tapped on the floor to the beat and he mouthed the words along with me as I stayed sitting on the carpet, scanning through other CDs I hadn't seen yet. Suddenly, as the chorus came on, we both sung out together as if it'd been practiced. I was the loudest of course:

_"California rest in peace  
Simultaneous release"_

Arthur chuckled shyly in between.

_"California show your teeth  
She's my priestess, I'm your priest, _

_YEAH!_

_YEAH!_

I showed off by exaggerating my movements whilst singing, making a spectacle of myself even though I knew couldn't sing for shit. As the final "YEAH!" resounded, we both looked at each other and burst out laughing - mostly 'cause I sounded like a strangled cat.

"I love this song," I said again, just as a matter of small talk. "So who wrote that song you played earlier?"

He answered with a care-free matter-of-fact, "I did." making my eyebrows raise in surprise.

"Wow, really?" then I considered: "Is it true?"

"Is what true?" he asked, confused.

"That you like getting kicked in the face?"

He guffawed and looked away, still laughing. "No," he finally answered, slightly embarrassed.

"So what part _is_ true?"

Suddenly his face lost some of its humour and he got up from the sofa, "Would you like some more coffee?"

I was a bit taken aback by the sudden change of subject, but nodded anyway as he proceeded a little too hurriedly with our cups into the kitchen.

"Soo..." I started, trying to fill the now slightly awkward atmosphere as the music carried on playing in the background. "What's your band called?"

I heard the clatter of tea cups and a low grumble of the kettle. "We don't have a name. We just sort of play together when we feel like it..."

"Oh," I nodded, trying to think of other things to talk about whilst tapping my hands on my knees to the beat of the music. "Who was that guy by the piano? He didn't look like much of a rocker to me?"

"Nah, Roderich's more of a classical nerd. He's Austrian, see? Still, he enjoys watching and listening to us play, which is nice I guess. It's probably more for Lizzy's sake than anyone else's. You should listen to him play the piano, though," he offered, his tone proving how impressive this Roderich guy was as he walked back to the couch with our fresh cups of tea and coffee.

"Is Lizzy the singer's name?"

He settled the cups down, "Her name's Elizabeta, but we all just call her Lizzy. She's bloody amazing, isn't she?"

I agreed strongly, "Her voice gave me goose-bumps – she was _that_ good!"

Arthur smiled as if remembering fond memories. "An old Prussian boyfriend of hers used to be one of my good mates. We used to drink together. We were actually going to start a band together too but..." his eyes looked distant and confused as he took a sip of tea, "he disappeared."

I rose, "How?"

He shrugged, "I think he got into trouble when visiting his brother in Germany. I don't know what for. That was a few years ago... Never seen or heard from him since. Poor Lizzy was distraught, and Roderich's been sombre ever since..."

"What's Roderich got to do with him?" I asked.

Arthur leaned forward a little as if he was about to tell me something I shouldn't hear. "Well – don't say anything, right? But I think there was something going on between him and Gilbert – Lizzy's old boyfriend. He didn't tell me, but I could see in the way they looked at each other sometimes. Like... a connection they didn't want anyone to know about..."

"Oh," I replied, feeling kinda sorry for Lizzy.

"I was never too sure, but I could sense there was something going on between them. Poor Lizzy... I didn't say anything 'cause it was none of my business, but..." he shrugged light-heartedly, "I guess we'll never know. I wouldn't want to disturb the peace anyway. It's confusing – Roderich and Elizabeta are actually pretty close... I wonder about them sometimes..."

I screwed my lips to the side in thought since the situation did seem rather complicated. "Wow," was all I could think of to say, but then I decided to try and lighten the mood by changing the subject onto him. "So, have you written any other songs?"

Arthur shrugged modestly. "I have a few..." but he didn't seem keen on elucidating any further. "We usually just do covers of songs and play at small events when they can't get anyone else," he shrugged, taking another sip of tea. I grabbed my cup and blew on the surface before taking a sip. Then he turned the conversation around, "Anyway! What's the story behind you wanting to be a director?"

I let my hands rest around the warmth of the mug and brightened as the subject landed on me. "It's just been something I've wanted to do since forever. Parent's aren't too happy about it though."

"Oh? Why's that?"

I shrugged to try and seem untroubled by it. "They just... aren't interested. They don't think I'm gonna make it –"

Arthur looked unpleasantly startled. "I'm sorry. Your _parents_ said this to you?" he questioned, looking almost annoyed.

I replied with indifference, "Yeah."

He set his teacup down on the table. "Why the hell would they tell their child that?" he stated, agitation palpable in his voice. Then he noticed my puzzled expression watching him from by the stereo. "I'm sorry. I just... don't agree with telling your kids that they're_ 'not going to make it'_. What's their problem, anyway?" he resented, surprising me by how hot-headed he was actually getting about it.

I kept composed, "S'pose it didn't help that I earned a scholarship in sports and turned it down..." For some reason I realised I was defending my parents and that bugged me almost as much as it seemed to bug Arthur.

"Do you_ like_ Sports?"

"Yeah, but it's never been an aspiration or anything..."

"So what did they say when you told them?

I shrugged again; I was still a little dazed by the fact that he cared. "What they've always said. That I disappointed them by wasting an amazing opportunity by chasing a dream that's never going to happen..." I looked to the floor, "Or... something like that..."

Arthur took a moment to digest this and looked at me as if he was about to protest. Honestly, it felt good watching him react this way. "Aren't there scholarships for film? Sorry, I've been here a year – I'm not too familiar with this schooling system... or the film industry..." I could tell he was trying to restrain his irritation towards my parents.

"There is but I was never allowed to commit to it so I didn't have the opportunity. I understood the science and maths part but I never understood why _sports_ was so important to my parents..."

"You must be really good for them to be so disappointed in you declining the scholarship?" he noted, still quite testy.

I shrugged, "I suppose. But my mom and dad were athletic so..."

"And what do they do?"

"Mom's a celebrity masseuse and Dad's a corporate lawyer..." I blurted before I had any time to realise what I'd just given away.

His face registered into one of unexpected surprise. "Oh," he said, looking slightly taken aback, "So you're... kind of rich?" he speculated with an awry hint of a smile.

I sat tentatively trying to avoid his sudden change of demeanour, attempting to reason with him to believe that: "I'm not... _that _rich," but the sardonic expression didn't leave his face.

He nodded in understanding but I could tell he was being sarcastic due to the twinkle in his eye as he hid the smirk behind his raised tea cup and drank.

I could feel my face already heating up when he finally set down the mug and coaxed, "So... you still want the camera job, though, yes?" The mischief in his eyes darkened, "Since you already have money... but perhaps this way you'll at least have_ permission_ to stare at my bum for as long as you want."

I tried to appear unaffected by the contrary satisfaction of his expression; coming from what seemed to_ him_ like a delicious discovery. I tried avoiding his eyes and anxiously cleared my throat, but the gauche tension was sending my cheeks ablaze and his scrutiny was beginning to make me self-consciously unsure. I wish I'd kept my stupid mouth _shut!_ (YET AGAIN!). But my silence confirmed his suspicions.

_"Well!"_ he concluded, seeming rather pleased with the outcome. The mischief never left his luminous green eyes. "In that case, I'll need you this Friday night at seven," then he wriggled those pierced, bushy eyebrows, "We're having a Christmas special..."

* * *

Hayley was giving me the silent treatment every time I passed her by in college. It was like she was trying to get my attention by _not_ getting my attention as she stared ahead, head tilted upwards a little dramatically whilst avoiding all contact. I'll admit I wasn't putting a lot of effort into trying to talk to her anyway, so I let her carry on with whatever she was doing. I'd said sorry, hadn't I? What else was I suppose to do when it was really just a huge misunderstanding in the first place? People dance (or should I say grind) at parties all the time, but I never took that as a way of actually showing intimate feelings for each other? Maybe I'm just dense, I dunno. But my head hadn't exactly been focusing on her a lot lately...

My stomach crawled with anticipation as I waited for Friday night. I'll admit I pictured something amusing for the "Christmas Special", like Arthur dressed up in a Santa costume whilst banging someone under a Christmas tree dressed as an elf.

A rush tingled inside my stomach. I really needed to stop thinking about him in class...

* * *

Friday couldn't have come soon enough.

Class finished early for me that day so I had plenty of time to go to the gym and have a shower before Matt left for the train station to visit his family.

However, despite always being aware if I'd ever bump into Arthur again, I found him on the treadmill that day, practically dripping with sweat like he'd just stepped out of a pool. He seemed to be running at quite a fast pace – how long had he been on there, anyway? Perhaps he was making up for the fact he was a smoker? He hadn't spotted me yet and seemed really deep in thought as the sweat trickled down the side of his face. I debated whether going up to him and saying hello, but for some reason I felt nervous.

It was stupid really. I mean, he'd invited me round his place on Monday – surely that must count us as being friends now? I'm even helping him out with his porn site, so that must mean some sort of friendship, surely? Dudes don't just go around filming each other having sex... right?

After a while of debating to myself whether to go up and talk to him, I managed the excuse of considering he was too engaged in his work out, so it would be rude to interrupt. That'd impress him, since he's English and they like manners, right?

Whilst wondering why I never saw him around that much apart from the odd sporadic occasion, and now because I was part of his 'camera crew', I noticed him slowing down on the treadmill until he was walking to a stop. Soon after that he jumped off and rushed towards the changing rooms. He noticed me and nodded my way quickly but didn't seem to want to stop as he carried on in a hurry to get to the showers. I wondered where he needed to get to. The thought of him doing more porn films without me niggled sourly at my conscious brain, but I pushed them back, not liking the slight thwarted paranoia it was giving me.

When I got back to my room, Matt was just zipping up his suitcase ready for the cab he'd arranged to meet him at the college entrance so that it could take him to the train station. He only had one bag, so I offered to walk over and see him off before he left. He wished me a merry Christmas and just as I waved and watched his cab descend, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I dug it out.

"Hey, mom."

Her voice was shrill and sounded as if she'd been rushing around the place. "Oh, Alfred! Sorry we haven't called you sooner... your cousin hasn't left our phone alone since asking whether it would be okay to host her engagement party at our place... she's been driving us crazy! Anyway, how are you, Al? Hope College hasn't been too stressful on you... though, I struggle to find what could be so hard about fil–"

"Yeah, it's been great mom. How are you and dad?"

"Oh, we've been fine, just preparing for Amelia's engagement party. She wants it all winter-themed like a winter-wonderland – oh, it's going to be gorgeous! I've got all the decorations and white flowers and –"

"Sound's great."

"Well, it's all going fine at the moment, except your cousin's been trying to find a singer or a band to play at the party... says she doesn't want anyone boring like the ones I've suggested, the cheeky little –"

"Wait." My ears pricked up and an idea struck me. "What kind of band? Did she say specifically?"

She pondered for a moment. "Well, you know what her fiancé's like with all that rock and roll he plays_ too_ loudly in his car. Probably something like that? But nothing too 'hard-core', as you young people put it."

A smile crept onto my face, "I think I know just the band."

She gasped. "Really? Oh, that's wonderful! We've been trying to find someone for – wait. Are they good?"

"Like you won't believe, mom. The singer's fantastic!"

"Oh, well this _is_ fantastic – I'll tell Amelia right away! But make sure you call me to say if they can come. Don't just expect people to –"

"I'll let you know by tomorrow... when's the date again?"

"Next Wednesday. And make sure they dress appropriately. I don't want anyone walking around looking like they've come dressed as homeless people or _thugs_ with that chicken hair I dislike so much..."

"I assure you; for a rock band, their haircuts are pretty tame. You don't have to worry."

"Okay, well, just let me know!"

"I will."

"I have to go now. Talk soon sweetie."

"Say hi to dad for me."

"I will. Love you!"

"Love you too."

* * *

I didn't expect it to feel this quiet when Matt finally left. It was nice having someone around all the time; I'd gotten so used to it by now compared to being alone like at home.

At around 6:45pm I heard a low commotion coming from the hallway outside my room. Matt left his Xbox and all his equipment here (thank god) so as I paused Assassin's Creed, I tried tuning in to the sounds outside, even though they were barely inaudible mumbles.

I put down the controller and moved to open the door slightly to peek down the hallway.

Guys were messing around with Santa hats and knocking on the door with crates of beer in their hands. As they were let in I closed my door.

Fifteen minute began to sound like a really long time... I could turn up a little early, couldn't I? Arthur probably wouldn't mind since everyone else seemed to be turning up before seven anyway.

Should I...? I looked at the clock on Matt's desk.

* * *

"You're early. Come in, the beer's over there by Antonio," Arthur greeted as I made my way into his now not-so-empty dorm room and closed the door behind me. Both Antonio and Francis made their way over to me, pushing a beer in my hands and leading me over to a small group they'd been conversing with.

"Hey, I remember you!" One guy pointed out and I instantly recognised his seedy grin.

"Yeah," I agreed, "You're that guy who wouldn't keep his damn camera out of my face," I remarked, not shaking him at all.

He just continued to grin proudly like an obnoxious douchbag, and pretty soon I'd found out that he was in the same year as me.

"What do you do?" he asked.

I answered casually, "I study film,"

He nodded, "Cool. Do you just like, watch movies and stuff?"

That comment lit a small fire in my tummy as a brief memory of my parents flashed across my mind. "Uh, no, I'm actually hoping to become a director," I added, but he didn't seem too intrigued by what I'd said and just nodded blankly.

"I study computer engineering. But I'm not too bad with a camera either... I could probably do your job," he boasted carelessly, and I knew I wasn't going to like him any more than when I first met him harassing me with that damn camera.

_"Really?"_ I shot as politely as I could muster through gritted teeth, trying not to get too irritated with that little comment, "Cool."

He replied back, "Cool."

I couldn't believe my relief when Arthur came over and pulled me to one side.

"You alright?" he asked with a little raise of his eyebrow.

"Yeah, I'm... fine," I stated and he looked over towards that guy who'd been annoying me earlier.

"Josh's an idiot, I know. But he's the one who manages the website, so I can't get rid of him I'm afraid."

"Shame." I said lightly, relieved that I wasn't the only one who felt a compelling need to dislike the man.

"So. Are you sure you're still up for tonight?"

"Would I be here early if I wasn't?" I replied, unfolding my arms out to exaggerate my point.

"Well..." he intoned, a bit unsurely, "you look... kind of tense. Everyone will be doing their own thing so don't worry about being watched..."

"I wasn't worried," I assured, perhaps a bit too strongly.

"And listen; don't let him get to you. He's a bloody fool," Arthur settled as we both glanced back at Josh sniggering at something someone had said. I like to think I'm pretty relaxed and friendly with most people, but for some reason he hit a nerve straight away. Probably something to do with his obvious ignorance (similar to my parents') towards my course, but thank God I wasn't the only one who felt irritated by him.

"Might as well start now. C'mon, we're over by this bed," Arthur said as he led me to the vacant bed beside his.

Obviously I wasn't expecting it to be formal, but it was strange just getting right down to it like there was some sort of schedule we had to follow. But then I mulled over what he said and rose a quizzical eyebrow, "Who's _we?"_ finishing just in time to spot two broad red heads stood by the bed chatting. They looked at me then Arthur for instruction.

"So, is it a go?" one of them asked impatiently, their hair colour only differing by the darkness in shade. They were both between mine and Arthur's height, and both of a broad, thick build that looked as if they wouldn't decline a fight if it ensued.

"Hold your horses," Arthur snapped, picking up the camera and passing it to me, "Ready?" he asked.

"Are _you_?" I offered in cautious bewilderment, not expecting the Christmas special to involve two impatient, burly looking gingers. They could have at least been in elf costumes...

"Ach, come on! A've got a pie waitin' at home with ma name on at!" the darker ginger bellowed with a Scottish accent too boisterous to go unnoticed.

Arthur rolled his eyes witheringly and shook his head ardently as if to say 'give me strength'. "Come on; let's get this over with so he can have his pie..."

The lighter ginger chuckled, an Irish accent rolling off his tongue, "I didn't expect you to be so considerate towards us, Arthur," he smirked.

"I'm letting you fuck me aren't I?" he chided, in such a blunt, casual way the two red heads looked at each other and shrugged.

"Turn the camera on," the Irishman grunted. So, warily, I did and watched them both ascend on Arthur, pulling and tugging at his clothes with such a hastiness he looked like he was being messed around like a ragdoll.

The Scotsman yanked him by the hair and forced his head down so Arthur was on his knees. They didn't waste time getting their cocks out as Arthur's head was pushed down onto one's crotch as he jerked the other guy off with his hand. A heat roiled in my gut – this didn't seem like it was going to take long... like, they didn't even spare a moment to take each other's clothes off. Even Arthur was still fully clothed! They also didn't show much affection like kissing or caressing – it was blow job or no job.

I heard gagging, and then Arthur's head moved over to the Irishman, devouring his cock without even taking a chance to breathe.

"Move closer here, mate. You want et nice and close..." I moved over and adjusted the camcorder to the side of Arthur's face, watching with disbelief how he managed to fit the whole thing down his throat. When he pulled off again his face was red and his breath was harsh and raspy as he looked up at them resentfully – surely if it was too much he'd stop?

The next thing I knew he was forced to stand and bend over, leaving his hands to steady himself on the bed as the two red-heads forced his pants down.

They struggled a little, "-fuck d'ya have to wear a belt today of all deys?" the Scotsman grunted as they finally managed to yank them all the way down to his knees. The Scotsman lifted the back of Arthur's grey T-shirt, giving everyone a full view of his bare, round butt. My arousal heightened when the Irishman spanked him hard, making Arthur tense and arch forward as the Scotsman did the same on the other cheek. A tiny sliver of jealousy pricked inside me as I watched them grope him and squeeze the chunky flesh of his ass cheeks; making them jiggle and turn red every time they spanked him.

I didn't hear a sound from Arthur, so I moved around to where his head hung between his shoulders, his face low and his jaw clenched every time his body jerked forwards with a spank.

He still didn't say anything so I'd guessed he had quite a high tolerance for this sort of stuff; or maybe even liked it. It made me think of that strange line from his song... though I didn't think kicks in the face would be very festive.

When they were done humiliating him, the Scotsman stood behind Arthur's bent over body and took out his hard cock from his jeans. A few minutes were wasted with just trying to find a condom and slicking up with lube, but when he finally pushed himself not-so-gently into Arthur, my own jaw clenched as I watched him scrunch the back collar of Arthur's T-shirt in a fist and use it as leverage every time he rammed hard and rapidly against Arthur's bare reddening skin.

Arthur's eyes were screwed shut and his jaw was clenched even tighter as his locked out arms and hands shook the bed beneath him. Strangled grunts were hissing through his teeth and the hard, angry, smacking noise of skin against skin added to ferociousness of the screw. The Irishman had moved around the other side of the bed so he was now directly in front of Arthur, his crotch exposed and erect, and without even a single thought, he'd pushed himself into Arthur's mouth, forcing Arthur to grip onto the Irishman's hips to steady himself as he was continually fucked from behind.

The Irishman locked Arthur's head in a vice-like grip as he thrust into his mouth, getting his share of Arthur as they both fucked him like a hardcore spit roast. Both Arthur's cheeks on his ass _and_ his face were red raw and a fleeting moment of guilt passed through me despite the sweet arousal in my pants.

Was he actually enjoying this? It was weird enough watching a man do this instead of a woman, and I knew he hadn't said anything to say that he _wasn't _enjoying this, but... something came off from him that seemed almost as if he was just doing this as a favour. Like there was a debt he owed these two or something.

When the Irishman pulled away from Arthur, the Scotsman stopped too. Arthur was wiping his chin and taking in breaths like it was his last chance and it wasn't long after he was allowed to stand up properly that he was being moved to straddle the Irishman who was now lying down with his back on the bed. Arthur had to pull off one of his sneakers so he could free his legs from his pants in order to straddle the Irishman properly, then he was being fucked again from the bed as the Scotsman spanked his ass again.

I looked around, noticing some of the guys were watching and jerking themselves off, others were making their own videos and doing things not nearly as rough as what they were doing to Arthur. It was all so seedy... But just as I turned back to make sure the camera wasn't going off track and losing the footage, my eyes widened in shock as I found the Scotsman positioning himself on the bed behind Arthur and pushing his dick in the already occupied hole that was stretching enough to look like it hurt. I closed the camera up between the Scotsman's legs to where Arthur was sandwiched between them and being penetrated by not one but_ two_ dicks at the same time. I shivered when a pained moan left Arthur's throat.

I was still partly stunned that it'd actually stretched that far, because ginger #1 and #2 weren't exactly _small._ As Scotty started thrusting again, I moved to the side to let the whole sandwich in the shot; Arthur in the middle yet again, but this time being taken on by two guys who didn't look like they were going to spare any feelings as they both began thrusting at the same time at a more-than-leisurely pace.

Skin was smacking against skin again but this time Arthur's strangled groans came out just as loud and frantic, nothing hidden from his expression at all. It made my body pulse with fiery tingles. But by the open mouthed, strained look on his face, I didn't know whether he was actually in pain or enjoying himself.

Suddenly, Scotty grabbed Arthur by the collar and pulled his body up, arching him back against his own fully clothed torso whilst still thrusting his hips. He pressed his nose behind Arthur's ear and licked his neck, slavering his skin greedily as his tongue curled around the earlobe. His breathing was harsh against Arthur's ear and he didn't hold back from biting down hard on Arthur's pink pulsing neck; eventually leaving a bruised, purple mark for everyone to see. Arthur let out a hiss and screwed his eyes shut, baring his teeth with masochistic rancour.

_"Bastard!"_ he spat, making the two gingers laugh sadistically and harden the pace of their hips.

Arthur was being held up by the neck with the Scotsman's strong arm wrapped around it as he took everything they gave him without complaint.

It _was_ literally suck the fuck, because still none of them had actually taken their clothes off. The only thing they'd taken off was Arthur's pants and even they were still hanging loosely around one ankle, lynching down the side of the trembling bed.

But all of a sudden, a tinny melodic tune went off, making Arthur's head whip to the side to where a nokia phone lit up and vibrated on the mini table next to his bed.

"Lads, stop," he urged and all the pain/pleasure disappeared from his face, leaving a more serious and actually slightly irritated expression as the other's only continued to carry on. He seemed to sober up like he'd had enough and everything in his face and actions turned rigid as he growled again, this time more forcefully: "I said _stop!"_

He uncurled the red-head's arm from his neck and roughly pushed him away from his body. The Scotsman tumble back onto his elbows as Arthur hurriedly climbed off the Irishman, who looked just as perplexed as the Scotsman.

Quickly, whilst pulling up his pants, Arthur rushed over to the ringing phone and staggered into the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind him.

The two red-heads were putting themselves away and zipping up just as I glanced at them with the same look of bewilderment. Then I glanced back at the closed door of the bathroom.

I lowered the camcorder and paused the recording. Then walked over to the bathroom and knocked. "Hey, Arthur?" I called hesitantly, "Everything alright?" Then I became aware that he was actually talking.

"Uh-just give us ten minutes! No, I'm fine, I wasn't doing anything important..." he trailed off, and I felt it was probably better if I'd left him to it, even though a lingering suspicion prickled the inside of my stomach. I didn't really know what it was, I just knew I didn't like it, but trying to not appear down hearted by my suspicions I turned back and walked over towards the gingers who looked as if they were ready to get out of here.

"Is he alright?" The Irishman asked.

"Said he needed ten minutes."

They both shared a look that made me wonder if they knew something I didn't. They actually looked sincere which wasn't something I'd expected after the way they'd treated Arthur earlier.

"Well," the Irishman started, making a point that they were about to leave, despite the painfully obvious erection still in his pants. "Vengeance was fun while it lasted. I doubt we'll get to finish though..." his thick ginger eyebrows seemed to curve with unease as he looked at the bathroom door. "We're gonna shoot off."

The Scotsman added, "Aye. Make sure he's alright when he comes oot."

I'll admit, apart from being a little thrown that they were leaving so soon, I was more taken aback by the subtle concern etched in their words.

"Um, okay," I simple replied, not wanting to trouble them by asking why as they made their way swiftly out of the dorm and closed the door, adjusting their pants as they did.

The lingering prick of jealously dissolved from my stomach as I thought over what they might have meant by that. Was there something wrong with Arthur? Suddenly a little pang of unease entered my gut instead as I considered what could possibly be the matter.

But my thoughts were halted as the bathroom door swung open; revealing Arthur with pants no longer around his ankles, but securely zipped and fastened with a studded belt under his T-shirt, his vacant phone in his hands.

He looked over to me and I asked cautiously again, "Everything alright?"

He walked casually over and shoved his phone in his pocket. "Yeah," he sighed. "Where're the other two? Probably off to eat that bloody pie I e'spect..." he mocked indifferently.

"Probably," I offered unsurely, regarding Arthur as he looked around impassively. "Soo... are you okay? What was that just now?" I pushed, slightly sceptical of the nonchalance in his appearance.

"Nothing you need to worry about. It was just a..." he looked at me hesitantly as if considering something for a moment, "...a call from my mum. Back home. In... England. So we couldn't chat long." The worry eased in my stomach. "I was expecting a call from her today but I didn't know when. Eventually considered that she might have forgot but... she managed to time it perfectly," he said, voice oozing with sarcasm.

"The Scottish guy told me to make sure you were alright."

He sniffed. "How nice of him," he brushed off bluntly, "we might want to cut out that last bit of the film by the way," he implied, shaking off what I'd just said and acting like he hadn't a care in the world.

"Did it hurt?" I asked.

"What, being shagged by two blokes at once? A little bit," he uttered, crinkling his nose to the side, "I'm guessing you've never seen that kind of thing before?"

I shook my head and smiled gingerly, "I... didn't know it could take that many..."

There was a hint of embarrassment in Arthur's smile as he looked away.

* * *

**Sorry for the delay. Been working so much I haven't had time to write! I hope it was okay :)**

**Josh and Hayley belong to me.**

**Everyone else belongs to Himaruya hidekaz.**

**The song Alfred played in Arthur's dorm belongs to: Red hot Chili Peppers - Dani California**


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